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THE   TRAGEDY   OF   KING   LEAR/f  ^/ 
Preface. 


The  Early  Editions.  Two  Quarto  editions  of  King 
Lear  appeared  in  the  year  1608,  with  the  following  title- 
pages: — (i.)  '' M.  William  Shak-speare:  |  HIS  |  True 
Chronicle  Historic  of  the  life  and  |  death  of  King  Lear 
and  his  three  Daughters.  |  With  the  unfortunate  life  of 
Edgar,  fonne  \  and  heire  to  the  Earle  of  Gloster,  and 
his  I  sullen  and  assumed  humor  of  |  Tom  of  Bedlam:  |  As 
io  was  played  before  the  Kings  Maieftie  at  Whitehall  vpon  \ 
S.  Stephans  night  in  Chriftmas  Hollidayes.  \  By  his  Maies- 
ties  Seruants  playing  vsually  at  the  Gloabe  |  on  the 
Banck-fide.  [Device.]  London,  |  Printed  for  Nathaniel 
Butter,  and  are  to  be  sold  at  his  fhop  in  Pauls  \  Church- 
yard at  the  figne  of  the  Pide  Bull  neere  |  St.  Auftins  Gate, 
1608." 

(ii.)  The  title  of  the  Second  Quarto  is  almost  identical 
with  that  of  (i.),  but  the  device  is  different,  and  there  is 
no  allusion  to  the  shop  "  at  the  signe  of  the  Pide  Bull." 

It  is  now  generally  accepted  that  the  "  Pide  Bull  " 
Quarto  is  the  first  edition  of  the  play,  but  the  question  of 
priority  depends  on  the  minutest  of  bibliographical  cri- 
teria, and  the  Cambridge  editors  were  for  a  long  time 
misled  in  their  chronological  order  of  the  Quartos  (vide 
Cambridge  editors'  Preface,  pp.  v.-ix.);  the  problem  is 
complicated  by  the  fact  that  no  two  of  the  extant  six  cop- 
ies of  the  First  Quarto  are  exactly  alike  ;'^  they  differ  in 

*  Capell's  copy ;  the  Duke  of  Devonshire's ;  the  British  Mu- 
seum's two  copies ;  the  Bodleian  two  copies. 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

having  one,  two,  three,  or  four,  uncorrected  sheets.  The 
Second  Quarto  was  evidently  printed  from  a  copy  of  the 
First  Quarto,  having  three  uncorrected  sheets.  A  re- 
print of  this  edition,  with  many  additional  errors,  ap- 
peared in  1655. 

The  Folio  edition  of  the  play  was  derived  from  an  in- 
dependent manuscript,  and  the  text,  from  a  typographical 
point  of  view,  is  much  better  than  that  of  the  earlier 
editions;  but  it  is  noteworthy  that  some  two  hundred  and 
twenty  lines  found  in  the  Quartos  are  not  found  in  the 
Folio,  while  about  fifty  lines  in  the  Folio  are  wanting  in 
the  Quartos.* 

Much  has  been  written  on  the  discrepancies  between 
the  two  versions;  among  modern  investigations  perhaps 
the  most  important  are  those  of  (i.)  Delius  and  (ii.)  Kop- 
pel ;  according  to  (i),  "  in  the  Quartos  we  have  the  play 
as  it  was  originally  performed  before  King  James,  and 
before  the  audience  of  the  Globe,  but  sadly  marred  by 
misprints,  printers'  sophistications,  and  omissions,  per- 
haps due  to  an  imperfect  and  illegible  AIS.  In  the  Folio 
we  have  a  later  MS.  belonging  to  the  Theatre,  and 
more  nearly  identical  with  what  Shakespeare  wrote. 
The  omissions  of  the  Quartos  are  the  blunders  of  the 
printers ;  the  omissions  of  the  Folios  are  the  abridge- 
ments of  the  actors;  "  according  to  (ii.),  ''  it  was  Shake- 
speare's own  hand  that  cut  out  many  of  the  passages 
both  in  the  Quarto  text  and  the  Folio  text.  .  .  . 
The  original  form  was,  essentially,  that  of  the  Quarto, 
then  followed  a  longer  form,  zuith  the  additions  in  the  Folio, 
as  substantially  our  modern  editions  have  again  restored 

*  To  the  latter  class  belong  I.  ii.  119- 124;  I.  iv.  345-356;  HI.  i. 
22-29;  III.  ii.  79-95;  to  the  former,  I.  iii.  17-23;  I.  iv.  154-169,  252- 
256;  II.  ii.  148-151;  III.  vi.  18-59,  109-122;  III.  vii.  98-107;  IV.  i. 
60-66;  IV.  ii.  31-50,  53-59,  62-69;  IV.  vii.  88-95;  V.  i.  23-28;  V. 
iii.  54-59;  V.  iii.  204-221.  Vide  Prsetorius'  facsimiles  of  Quarto  i 
and  Quarto  2;  Victor's  Parallel  Text  of  Quarto  i  and  Folio  i 
(Marburg,  1886),  Furness'  Variorum,  etc. 


KING   LEAR     .  Preface 

thein;  then  the  shortest  form,  as  it  is  preserved  for  us  in 
the  FoHo."^ 

It  seems  probable  that  the  quarto  represents  a  badly 
printed  revised  version  of  the  orginal  form  of  the  play, 
specially  prepared  by  the  poet  for  performance  at  Court, 
vv^hereas  the  folio  is  the  actors'  abridged  version.  It 
seems  hardly  possible  to  determine  the  question  more 
definitely. 

Tate's  Version.  For  more  than  a  century  and  a  half, 
from  the  year  1680  until  the  restoration  of  Shakespeare's 
tragedy  at  Covent  Garden  in  1838,  Tate's  per-version  of 
Lear  held  the  stage,  f  delighting  audiences  with  "  the  Cir- 
cumstances of  Lear's  Restoration,  and  the  virtuous  Ed- 
gar's Alliance  with  the  amiable  Cordelia."  It  was  to 
this  acting-edition  that  Lamb  referred  in  his  famous 
criticism,  "  Tate  has  put  his  hook  into  the  nostrils  of  this 
leviathan  for  Garrick  and  his  followers,"  etc.  Garrick, 
Kemble,  Kean,  and  other  great  actors  were  quite  con- 
tent with  this  travesty,  but  "  the  Lear  of  Shakespeare 
cannot  be  acted." 

The  Date  of  Composition.  The  play  of  King  Lear 
may  safely  be  assigned  to  the  year  1605: — (i.)  According 
to  an  entry  in  the  Stationers'  Register,  dated  26th  No- 
vember, 1607,  it  was  "  played  before  the  King's  Majesty 
at  Whitehall  upon  S.  Stephens'  night  at  Christmas  last," 
i.e.  on  the  twenty-sixth  of  December  1606  ;  (ii.)  the  names 
of  Edgar's  devils,  and  many  of  the  allusions  in  Act  III. 
Sc.  iv.  were  evidently  derived  from  Harsnett's  Declaration 

*  Delius'  Essay  appeared  originally  in  the  German  Shakespeare 
Society  Year-Book  X. ;  and  was  subsequently  translated  into 
English  (Nezu.  SJiak.  Soc.  Trans.  1875-6). 

Dr.  Koppel's  investigations  are  to  be  found  in  his  Text-Krit- 
ische  Studien  uhcr  Richard  IIL  u.  King  Lear  (Dresden,  1877). 
A  resume  of  the  various  theories  is  given  in  Furness'  edition,  pp. 

359-373- 
t  Vide  Furness,  pp.  467-478. 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

of  Egregious  Popish  Impostures,  which  was  first  pubHshed 
in  1603;  (iii.)  the  substitution  of  ''British  man''  for 
'*  Englishman  "  in  the  famous  nursery-rhyme  (Act  III.  Sc. 
iv.  189)  seems  to  point  to  a  time  subsequent  to  the  Union 
of  England  and  Scotland  under  James  I.;  the  poet  Daniel 
in  a  congratulatory  address  to  the  King  (printed  in  1603) 
wrote  thus : — 

"  O  thou  mightie  state, 
Now  thou  art  all  Great  Britain,  and  no  more, 
No  Scot,  no  English  now,  nor  no  debate ;  "  * 

(iv.)  the  allusions  to  the  ''late  eclipses"  (I.  ii.  112,  148, 
153)  have  been  most  plausibly  referred  to  the  great 
eclipse  of  the  sun,  which  took  place  in  October,  1605, 
and  this  supposition  is  borne  out  by  the  fact  that  John 
Harvey's  Discoursive  Problems  concerning  Prophesies, 
printed  in  1588,  actually  contains  a  striking  prediction 
thereof  (hence  the  point  of  Edmund's  comment,  "  /  am 
thinking  of  a  prediction  I  read  this  other  day,''  etc.) ;  per- 
haps, too,  there  is  a  reference  to  the  Gunpowder  Plot  in 
Gloucester's  words,  "  machinations,  hollowness,  treach- 
ery, and  all  ruinous  disorders  follow  us  disquietly  to  our 
graves." 

The  Sources  of  the  Plot.  The  story  of  "  Leir,  the 
son  of  Balderd,  ruler  over  the  Britaynes,  in  the  year  of 
the  world  3105,  at  what  time  Joas  reigned  as  yet  in  Juda," 
was  among  the  best-known  stories  of  British  history. 
Its  origin  must  be  sought  for  in  the  dim  world  of  Celtic 
legend,  or  in  the  more  remote  realm  of  simple  nature- 
myths, f  but  its  place  in  literature  dates  from  Geoffrey  of 

*  It  is  noteworthy  that  in  IV.  vi.  256  the  Folio  reads  "English," 
where  the    Quartos  have  "British." 

t  According  to  some  Celtic  folk-lorists,  "  Lir  "  =  Neptune  ;  the 
two  cruel  daughters  =  the  rough  Winds  ;  Cordelia  =  the  gentle 
Zephyr.  I  know  no  better  commentary  on  the  tempestuous  char- 
acter of  the  play;  Shakespeare  has  unconsciously  divined  the 
germ  of  the  myth. 


KING  LEAR  Preface 

Monmouth's  Latin  history  of  the  Britons,  Historia  Brit- 
oniim,  composed  about  1130,  based  in  all  probabiHty  on 
an  earlier  work  connected  with  the  famous  name  of 
Nennius,  though  Geoffrey  aheges  his  chief  authority  was 
"  an  ancient  British  book."  To  the  Historia  Britonum 
we  owe  the  stories  of  Leir,  Gorboduc,  Locrine;  there, 
too,  we  find  rich  treasures  of  ^^^thurian  romance. 
•  Welsh,  French,  and  English  histories  of  Britain  were 
derived,  directly  or  indirectly,  from  this  Latin  history. 
The  first  to  tell  these  tales  in  English  verse  was  Lay- 
amon,  son  of  Leovenath,  priest  of  Arley  Regis,  in  Wor- 
cestershire, on  the  right  bank  of  the  Severn,  who  flour- 
ished at  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  and 
whose  English  Brut  was  based  on  Wace's  French  Gcstes 
des  Bretons — a  versified  translation  of  Geoffrey's  history. 
At  the  end  of  the  century  the  story  figures  again  in  Rob- 
ert of  Gloucester's  Metrical  Chronicle;  in  the  fourteenth 
century  Robert  of  Brunne,  in  the  fifteenth  John  Har- 
dyng,  re-told  in  verse  these  ancient  British  stories.  In 
the  sixteenth  century  we  have  Warner's  Albion  s  England 
— the  popular  metrical  history  of  the  period;  we  have 
also  the  prose  chronicles  of  Fabyan,  Rastell,  Grafton, 
and  over  and  above  all,  HoHnshed's  famous  Historic  of 
England)"^  the  story  of  Lcir  is  to  be  found  in  all  these 
books.  Three  versions  of  the  tale  at  the  end  o^f  the  six- 
teenth century  show  that  the  poetical  possibilities  of  the 
subject  were  recognised  before  Shakespeare  set  thereon 
the  stamp  of  his  genius  f  : — (i.)  in  the  Mir  our  for  Magis- 
trates "  Queene  Cordila  "  tells  her  life's  "  tragedy,"  how 
''  in  dispaire  "  she  slew  herself  ''  the  year  before  Christ, 
800";  (ii.)  Spenser,  in  Canto  X.  of  the  Second  Book  of 
the  Faery  Queene,  summarises,  in  half  a  dozen  stanzas, 

*  In  Camden's  Remains  the  "  Lear  "  story  is  told  of  the  West- 
Saxon  King  Ina;  in  the  Gesta  Romanorum  Theodosius  takes  the 
place  of  King  Lear. 

fThe  ballad  of  King  Lcir,  and  his  three  Daughters  {vide 
Percy's  Reliques)  is,  in  all  probability,  later  than  Shakespeare's 
play. 

5 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

the  story  of  ''  Cordelia  " — this  form  of  the  name,  used 
as  a  variant  of  "  Cordeill  "  for  metrical  purposes,  occur- 
ring here  for  the  first  time;  the  last  stanza  may  be  quoted 
to  illustrate  the  closing  of  the  story  in  the  pre-Shake- 
spearian  versions: — 

"So  to  his  crown  she  him  restord  again 
In  which  he  died,  made  ripe  for  death  by  eld. 
And  after  will'd  it  should  to  her  remain; 
Who  peacefully  the  same  long  time  did  weld. 
And  all  men's  hearts  in  due  obedience  held; 
Till  that  her  sister's  children  woxen  strong 
Through  proud  ambition,  against  her  rebell'd. 
And  ovcrcommen  kept  in  prison  long. 
Till  weary  of  that  wretched  life  herself  she  hong" ; 

(iii.)  of  special  interest,  however,  is  the  pre-Shakespearian 
drama,  which  was  entered  in  the  books  of  the  Stationers' 
Company  as  early  as  1594  under  the  title  of  "  The  mostc 
famous  Chronicle  historyc  of  Leire,  Kinge  of  England, 
and  his  Three  Daughters,"  but  evidently  not  printed  till 
the  year  1605,  when  perhaps  its  publication  was  due  to 
the  popularity  of  the  newer  Chronicle  History  on  the 
same  subject;  "  The  |  True  Chronicle  Hi  |  story  of  King 
Leir  I  and  his  three  |  daughters,  Gonorill,  Ragan,  and 
Cordelia.  |  As  it  hath  bene  divers  and  sundry  |  times 
lately  acted.  |  London  |  printed  |  by  Simon  Stafford  for 
John  I  Wright,  and  are  to  bee  sold  at  his  shop  at  | 
Christes  Church  dore,  next  Newgate-  |  Market,  1605."* 
It  is  noteworthy  that  the  play  was  entered  in  the  Reg- 
isters on  the  8th  of  May  as  "  the  tragicall  historic  of 
Kinge  Leir,"  though  the  play  is  anything  but  a  ''  trag- 
edy " — its  ending  is  a  happy  one.  It  looks,  indeed,  as 
though  the  original  intention  of  the  pubHshers  was  to 
palm  off  their  "  Leir  "  as  identical  with  the  great  tragedy 
of  the  day. 

*  Vide  "  Six  Old  Plays  on  which  Shakespeare  founded  his 
Measure  for  Measure,"  etc.;  Hazlitt's  Shakespeare's  Library,  etc.; 
an  abstract  of  the  play  is  given  by  Furness,  pp.  393-401.- 

6 


KING  LEAR  Preface 

But  however  worthless  it  may  seem  when  placed  in 
juxtaposition  with  "  the  most  perfect  specimen  of  the 
dramatic  art  existing  in  the  world,"*  yet  this  less  am- 
bitious and  humble  production  is.  not  wholly  worthless,  if 
only  for  '^  a  certain  childlike  sweetness  "  in  the  por- 
traiture of  "  faire  Cordelia," 

" Myrrour  of  vertue,  Phoenix  of  our  age! 
Too  kind  a  daughter  for  an  unkind  father! " 

It  may  be  pronounced  a  very  favourable  specimen  of  the 
popular  '  comedies '  of  the  period  to  which  it  belonged 
(circa  1592),  with  its  conventional  classicism,  its  charac- 
teristic attempts  at  humour,  its  rhyming  couplets;  like  so 
many  of  its  class,  it  has  caught  something  of  the  tender- 
ness of  the  Greenish  drama,  and  something — rather  less 
— of  the  aspiration  of  the  Marlowan.f  "  With  all  its  de- 
fects," says  Dr.  Ward,  "  the  play  seems  only  to  await  the 
touch  of  a  powerful  hand  to  be  converted  into  a  tragedy 
of  supreme  effectiveness;  and  while  Shakespeare's 
genius  nowhere  exerted  itself  with  more   transcendent 

*  Shelley,  Defence  of  Poetry,  Essays,  etc.,  1840,  p.  20. 

t  Here  are  a  few  lines — perhaps  '  the  salt  of  the  old  play  ' — 
by  way  of  specimen: — [the  Gallian  king  is  wooing  Cordelia  dis- 
guised as  a  Palmer]. 

''King.  Your  birth  's  too  high  for  any  but  a  king. 
Cordelia.  My  mind  is  low  enough  to  love  a  palmer, 

Rather  than  any  king  upon  the  earth. 
King.  O,  but  you  never  can  endure  their  life. 

Which  is  so  straight  and  full  of  penury. 
Cordelia.  O  yes,  I  can,  and  happy  if  I  might : 

I  '11  hold  thy  palmer's  stafif  within  my  hand, 

And  think  it  is  the  sceptre  of  a  queen. 

Sometime  I  '11  set  thy  bonnet  on  my  head 

And  think  I  wear  a  rich  imperial  crown. 

Sometime  I  '11  help  thee  in  thy  holy  prayers, 

And  think  I  am  with  thee  in  Paradise. 

Thus  I  '11  mock  fortune,  as  she  mocketh  me. 

And  never  will  my  lovely  choice  repent ; 

For  having  thee,  I  shall  have  all  content," 


Preface  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

force  and  marvellous  versatility,  it  nowhere  found  more 
promising  materials  ready  to  its  command."* 

Yet  Shakespeare's  debt  to  the  old  play  was  of  the 
slightest,  and  some  have  held  that  he  may  not  even 
have  read  it,  but  in  all  probability  he  derived  therefrom 
at  least  a  valuable  hint  for  the  character  of  Kent,  whose 
prototype  Perillus  is  by  no  means  unskillfully  drawn; 
perhaps_,  too,  the  original  of  the  steward  Oswald  is  to  be 
found  in  the  courtier  Scaliger;  again  it  is  noteworthy 
that  messengers  with  incriminating  letters  play  an  im- 
portant part  in  the  earHer  as  in  the  later  drama;  and  pos- 
sibly the  first  rumblings  of  the  wild  storm-scene  of '  Lear  ' 
may  be  heard  in  the  mimic  thunder  which  in  '  Lcir ' 
strikes  terror  in  the  heart  of  the  assassin  hired  to  murder 
king  and  comrade — "  the  parlosest  old  men  that  ere  he 
heard." 

There  is  in  the  ''  Chronicle  History  "  no  hint  of  the 
underplot  of  Lear,  the  almost  parallel  story  of  Gloster 
and  Edmund,  whereby  Shakespeare  subtly  emphasies 
the  leading  motif  of  the  play;  the  vague  original  thereof 
is  to  be  found  in  Sir  Philip  Sidney's  Arcadia  (Book  II.  pp. 
133-158,  ed.  1598),  {"the  pitifu'll  state  and  story  of  the 
Paphlagonian  vnkinde  king,  and  his  kind  Sonne,  first  related 
by  the  son,  then  by  the  blind  father  "). 

Duration  of  Action.  The  time  of  the  play,  accord- 
ing to  Mr.  Daniel  {vide  Transactions  of  New  Shakespere 
Svc,  1877-79),  covers  ten  days,  distributed  as  follows: — 

Day  I,  Act  I.  Sc.  i.  Day  2,  Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  An  interval  of 
something  less  than  a  fortnight.  Day  3,  Act  I.  Sc.  iii.,  iv. 
Day  4,  Act  XL  Sc.  i.,  ii.  Day  5,  Act  II.  Sc.  iii.,  iv.;  Act 
III.  Sc.  i-vi.  Day  6,  Act  III.  Sc.  vii. ;  Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  Day 
7,  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  Perhaps  an  interval  of  a  day  or  two. 
Day  8,  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  Day  9,  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv.,  v.,  vi.  Day 
10,  Act  IV.  Sc.  vii. ;  Act  V.  Sc.  i.-iil. 

"  The  longest  period,  including  intervals,  that  can  be 
allowed  for  this  play  is  one  month;  though  perhaps  little 
more  than  three  weeks  is  sufficient." 

*  History  of  English  Dramatic  Literature,  Vol.  I.,  p.  126. 

8 


KING  LEAR 


Critical  Comments. 
I. 

Argument. 

I.  Lear,  King  of  Britain,  being  desirous  of  escaping 
the  cares  of  state  on  account  of  advancing  years,  deter- 
mines to  portion  out  his  kingdom  among  his  three 
daughters,  Goneril,  Regan,  and  CordeHa.  In  his  old  age 
he  craves  expressions  of  his  daughters'  affection.  Both 
Goneril  and  Regan  make  most  eloquent  protestations  of 
their  love;  and  the  delighted  monarch  forthwith  bestows 
on  each  a  third  of  his  kingdom.  But  Cordeha,  disgusted 
with  such  lip-service,  will  not  please  her  father  by  like 
avowals,  but  promises  only  to  love  him  according  to  her 
duty.  Lear,  enrag^ed,  takes  away  her  moiety  of  the 
realm  and  divide?  it  between  Goneril  and  Regan.  The 
Earl  of  Kent  interposes  on  behalf  of  Cordelia,  and  is 
himself  banished.  Though  dowerless,  Cordelia's  hand 
is  sought  and  obtained  by  the  King  of  France. 

It  is  not  long  before  Lear  discovers  that  he  has  been 
disappointed  in  his  estimate  of  the  two  elder  daughters. 
By  agreement,  he  had  reserved  nothing  more  than  the 
title  of  king,  and  a  retinue  of  one  hundred  knights.  He 
was  to  spend  alternately  a  month  at  the  courts  of  Goneril 
and  Regan. 

IL  They,  however,  reduce  the  size  of  his  train  and 
drive  him  into  open  rupture  with  them. 

IIL  Finally,  after  a  passionate  scene,  the  old  king 
betakes  himself  to  the  desolate  heath  on  a  stormy  night, 
where  he  braves  the  fury  of  the  elements.  He  is  ac- 
companied by  the  two  remaining  retainers  of  his  Court — 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

his  jester  and  the  Earl  of  Kent,  who  has  returned  from 
banishment  to  serve  him  in  disguise.  The  three  take 
refuge  in  a  hovel,  where  they  encounter  a  supposed  mad- 
man— Edgar,  the  disguised  son  of  the  Earl  of  Gloucester, 
who  has  been  supplanted  in  his  father's  affections  by  his 
natural  half-brother,  Edmund.  Lear's  mind  becomes 
unbalanced.  In  his  extremity  the  Earl  of  Gloucester 
ministers  to  him.  The  treacherotis  Edmund  informs 
Regan  and  Goneril  of  the  kindness,  and  Cornwall,  Re- 
gan's husband,  tears  out  Gloucester's  eyes. 

IV,  Shortly  after,  while  being  led  in  his  blindness  on 
the  heath,  Gloucester  is  met  and  recognized  by  his  dis- 
owned son  Edgar,  who,  unknown  to  his  father,  takes 
him  under  his  protection  and  cures  Gloucester  of  his 
suicidal  mania. 

Meanwhile,  Cordelia,  learning  through  Kent  of  her 
sisters'  treachery  and  the  ensuing  plight  of  her  father, 
comes  to  his  relief  with  a  French  army.  She  nurses  him, 
and  endeavors  to  restore  him  to  sanity. 

V.  A  battle  is  fought  between  Cordelia's  French 
troops,  and  the  English  forces  under  the  command  of 
Edmund,  who  holds  equivocal  relations  towards  both 
Goneril  and  Regan.  Cordelia's  army  is  defeated  and 
herself  and  Lear  taken  prisoners.  Goneril — for  Ed- 
mund's sake — poisons  her  sister  Regan;  and  afterwards 
when  her  husband  discovers  her  perfidy,  stabs  herself. 
Edmund  is  killed  in  a  combat  with  his  wronged  brother, 
Edgar.  By  an  order  of  Edmund,  too  late  counter- 
manded, Cordelia  is  hanged  in  prison,  and  Lear  dies 
broken-hearted  at  this  last  calamity. 

McSpadden:  Shakespearian  Synopses. 

H. 

Not  a  Play  for  the  Stage. 

The  Lear  of  Shakespeare  cannot  be  acted.  The  con- 
temptible  machinery  by   which   they   mimic   the   storm 

10 


KING  LEAR  Comments 

which  he  goes  out  m,  is  not  more  inadequate  to  represent 
the  horrors  of  the  real  elements,  than  any  actor  can  be 
to  represent  Lear:  they  might  more  easily  propose  to 
personate  the  Satan  of  Milton  upon  a  stage,  or  one  of 
Michael  Angelo's  terrible  figures.  The  greatness  of 
Lear  is  not  in  corporal  dimension,  but  in  intellectual: 
the  explosions  of  his  passion  are  terrible  as  a  volcano: 
they  are  storms  turning  up  and  disclosing  to  the  bottom 
that  sea  his  mind,  with  all  its  vast  riches.  It  is  his  mind 
which  is  laid  bare.  This  case  of  flesh  and  blood  seems 
too  insignificant  to  be  thought  on;  even  as  he  himself 
neglects  it.  On  the  stage  we  see  nothing  but  corporal 
infirmities  and  weakness,  the  impotence  of  rage;  while 
we  read  it,  we  see  not  Lear,  but  we  are  Lear, — we  are  in 
his  mind,  we  are  sustained  by  a  grandeur  which  baffles 
the  malice  of  daughters  and  storms;  in  the  aberrations  of 
his  reason  we  discover  a  mighty  irregular  power  of  rea- 
soning, immethodised  from  the  ordinary  purposes  of  life, 
but  exerting  its  powers,  as  the  wind  blows  where  it  Hst- 
eth,  at  will  upon  the  corruptions  and  abuses  of  mankind. 
What  have  looks,  or  tones,  to  do  with  that  sublime  iden- 
tification of  his  age  with  that  of  the  heavens  themselves, 
when  in  his  reproaches  to  them  for  conniving  at  the  in- 
justice of  his  children,  he  reminds  them  that  "  they  them- 
selves are  old  "?  What  gestures  shall  .we  appropriate 
to  this?  What  has  the  voice  or  the  eye  to  do  with  such 
things?  But  the  play  is  beyond  all  art,  as  the  tamperings 
with  it  show:  it  is  too  hard  and  stony;  it  must  have  love 
scenes,  and  a  happy  ending.  It  is  not  enough  that  Cor- 
delia is  a  daughter,  she  must  shine  as  a  lover  too.  Tate 
has  put  his  hook  in  the  nostrils  of  this  Leviathan,  for 
Garrick  and  his  followers,  the  showmen  of  scene,  to  draw 
the  mighty  beast  about  more  easily.  A  happy  ending! — 
as  if  the  living  martyrdom  that  Lear  had  gone  through, 
— the  flaying  of  his  feelings  alive,  did  not  make  a  fair 
dismissal  from  the  stage  of  life  the  only  decorous  thing 
for  him.  If  he  is  to  live  and  be  happy  after,  if  he  could 
sustain  this  world's  burden  after,  why  all  this  pudder  and 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

preparation, — why  torment  us  with  all  this  unnecessary 
sympathy?  As  if  the  childish  pleasure  of  getting  his  gilt 
robes  and  sceptre  again  could  tempt  him  to  act  over 
again  his  misused  station, — as  if  at  his  years,  and  with  his 
experience,  anything  was  left  but  to  die. 

Lamb:  On  the  Tragedies  of  Shakespeare. 

III. 

Lear. 

Lear,  as  first  presented  to  us,  is  so  self-indulgent  and 
unrestrained,  has  been  so  fooled  to  the  top  of  his  bent, 
is  so  terribly  unjust,  not  only  to  Cordeha,  but  to  Kent, 
that  one  feels  hardly  any  punishment  can  be  too  great  for 
him.  The  motive  that  he  puts  to  draw  forth  the  desired 
expression  of  affection  from  Cordelia,  ''  Do  profess  love 
to  get  a  big  reward,"  is  such  that  no  girl  with  true  love 
for  a  father  could  leave  unrepudiated;  and  when  his  pro- 
posal gets  the  answer  it  deserves,  he  meets  his  daugh- 
ter's nobleness  by  curses  and  revenge.  Stripped  by  his 
own  act  of  his  own  authority,  his  Fool  with  bitter  sar- 
casms teaches  him  what  a  fool  he  's  been.  And  few  can 
regret  that  he  was  made  to  feel  a  bite  even  sharper  than 
a  serpent's  tooth.  Still  one  is  glad  to  see  that  he  was 
early  struggling  against  his  own  first  wild  passion,  and 
that  he  would  blame  his  own  jealous  curiosity  before 
seeing  Goneril's  purpose  of  unkindness.  One  sympa- 
thizes with  his  prayer  to  heaven  to  keep  him  in  temper — 
"  he  would  not  be  mad  " — with  his  acquirement  of  some 
self-control,  when  excusing  the  hot  duke's  insolence  by 
his  illness.  One  sees,  though,  how  he  still  measures  love 
by  the  allowances  of  knights  it  will  give  him;  and  it  is 
not  till  driven  out  to  the  mercy  of  the  winds  and  storm, 
till  he  knows  that  he  is  but  a  "  poor,  infirm,  weak  and 
despised  old  man,"  till  he  can  think  of  the  poor  naked 
wretches  of  whom  he  has  before  taken  too  little  care, 


KING  LEAR  Comments 

that  one  pities  the  sufferer  for  the  consequences  of  his 
own  folly.  When  he  recovers  from  his  madness  and  has 
come  to  the  knowledge  of  himself,  has  found,  smelled 
out  those  flatterers  who  'd  destroy  him,  then  is  he  more 
truly  "  every  inch  a  king,"  though  cut  to  the  brains, 
than  ever  he  was  before.  The  pathos  of  his  recogni- 
tion of  Cordelia,  his  submission  to  her  and  seeking  her 
blessing,  his  lamentation  over  her  corpse,  are  exceeded 
by  nothing  in  Shakspere.  Professor  Spalding  dwells  on 
the  last  scene  as  an  instance  of  how  Shakspere  got  his 
most  intense  effects  by  no  grand  situation,  as  Massinger 
did,  as  Shakspere  himself  did  in  earlier  time,  but  out  of 
the  simplest  materials.  Spalding  says,  "  The  horrors 
which  have  gathered  so  thickly  throughout  the  last  act 
are  carefully  removed  to  the  background,  but  free  room 
is  left  for  the  sorrowful  group  on  which  every  eye  is 
turned.  The  situation  is  simple  in  the  extreme;  but  how 
tragically  moving  are  the  internal  convulsions,  for  the 
representation  of  which  the  poet  has  worthily  husbanded 
his  force!  Lear  enters  with  frantic  cries,  bearing  the 
body  of  his  dead  daughter  in  his  arms;  he  alternates  be- 
tween agitating  doubts  and  wishful  unbelief  of  her 
death,  and  piteously  experiments  on  the  lifeless  corpse; 
he  bends  over  her  with  the  dotage  of  an  old  man's  af- 
fection, and  calls  to  mind  the  soft  lowness  of  her  voice, 
till  he  fancies  he  can  hear  its  murmurs.  Then  succeeds 
the  dreadful  torpor  of  despairing  insanity,  during  which 
he  receives  the  most  cruel  tidings  with  apathy,  or  replies 
to  them  with  wild  incoherence;  and  the  heart  flows  forth 
at  the  close  with  its  last  burst  of  love  only  to  break  in 
the  vehemence  of  its  emotion,  commencing  with  the  ten- 
derness of  regret,  swelling  into  choking  grief,  and  at 
last,  when  the  eye  catches  the  tokens  of  mortality  in  the 
dead,  snapping  the  chords  of  life  in  an  agonized  horror." 
Cordelia  is  as  the  sun  above  the  deeps  of  hell  shown 
in  Goneril  and  Regan.  One  can  hardly  help  wishing 
that  Shakspere  had  followed  the  old  story  told  by  Lay- 
amon  and  other  repeaters  of  Geoffrey  of  ^lonmouth,  and 

13 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

made  Cordelia  set  her  father  on  the  throne  again,  and 
reign  after  him  for  a  while  in  peace.  But  the  tragedian, 
the  preacher  of  Shakspere's  Third-Period  Lesson,  did 
wisely  for  his  art  and  meaning  in  letting  the  daughter 
and  father  lie  in  one  grave. 

FuRNiVALL :  Tlie  Leopold  Shakspere. 

IV. 

Cordelia. 

There  is  in  the  beauty  of  Cordelia's  character  an  ef- 
fect too  sacred  for  words,  and  almost  too  deep  for  tears; 
within  her  heart  is  a  fathomless  well  of  purest  affection, 
but  its  waters  sleep  in  silence  and  obscurity — never  fail- 
ing in  their  depth  and  never  overflowing  in  their  fulness. 
Every  thing  in  her  seems  to  lie  beyond  our  view,  and 
affects  us  in  a  manner  which  we  feel  rather  than  per- 
ceive. The  character  appears  to  have  no  surface,  no 
salient  points  upon  which  the  fancy  can  readily  seize: 
there  is  little  external  development  of  intellect,  less  of 
passion,  and  still  less  of  imagination.  It  is  completely 
made  out  in  the  course  of  a  few  scenes,  and  we  are  sur- 
prised to  find  that  in  those  few  scenes  there  is  matter  for 
a  life  of  reflection,  and  materials  enough  for  twenty  her- 
oines. If  Lear  be  the  grandest  of  Shakspeare's  trage- 
dies, Cordelia  in  herself,  as  a  human  being,  governed  by 
the  purest  and  holiest  impulses  and  motives,  the  most  re- 
fined from  all  dross  of  selfishness  and  passion,  ap- 
proaches near  to  perfection;  and  in  her  adaptation,  as  a 
dramatic  personage,  to  a  determinate  plan  of  action, 
may  be  pronounced  altogether  perfect.  The  character, 
to  speak  of  it  critically  as  a  poetical  conception,  is  not, 
however,  to  be  comprehended  at  once,  or  easily;  and  in 
the  same  manner  Cordelia,  as  a  woman,  is  one  whom 
we  must  have  loved  before  we  could  have  known  her, 
and  known  her  long  before  we  could  have  known  her 

14 


KING   LEAR  Comments 

truly.  ...  It  appears  to  me  that  the  whole  charac- 
ter rests  upon  the  two  subHmest  principles  of  human  ac- 
tion— the  love  of  truth  and  the  sense  of  duty;  but  these, 
when  they  stand  alone  (as  in  the  Antigone),  are  apt  to 
strike  us  as  severe  and  cold.  Shakspeare  has,  therefore, 
wreathed  them  round  with  the  dearest  attributes  of  our 
feminine  nature,  the  power  of  feeling  and  inspiring  af- 
fection. The  first  part  of  the  play  shows  us  how  Cor- 
delia is  loved,  the  second  part  how  she  can  love. 
.  What  is  it  which  lends  to  Cordelia  that  pe- 
cuHar  and  individual  truth  of  character  which  distin- 
guishes her  from  every  other  human  being?  It  is  a 
natural  reserve,  a  tardiness  of  disposition,  ''  which  often 
leaves  the  history  unspoke  that  it  intends  to  do  ";  a  sub- 
dued quietness  of  deportment  and  expression,  a  veiled 
shyness  thrown  over  all  her  emotions,  her  language,  and 
her  manner;  making  the  outward  demonstration  invaria-- 
bly  fall  short  of  what  we  know  to  be  the  feeling  within. 
Not  only  is  the  portrait  singularly  beautiful  and  inter- 
esting in  itself,  but  the  conduct  of  Cordelia,  and  the  part 
which  she  bears  in  the  beginning  of  the  story,  is  ren- 
dered consistent  and  natural  by  the  wonderful  truth  and 
delicacy  with  which  this  peculiar  disposition  is  sustained 
throughout  the  play. 

Mrs.  Jameson:  Characteristics  of  Women. 


Goneril  and  Regan. 

There  is  no  accounting  for  the  conduct  of  Goneril  and 
Regan  but  by  supposing  them  possessed  with  a  very  in- 
stinct and  original  impulse  of  malignity.  The  main 
points  of  their  action,  as  we  have  seen,  were  taken  from 
the  old  story.  Character,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the 
term,  they  have  none  in  the  legend;  and  the  Poet  but  in- 

15 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

vested  them  with  characters  suitable  to  the  part  they 
were  beheved  to  have  acted. 

Whatever  of  soul  these  beings  possess,  is  all  in  the 
head:  they  have  no  heart  to  guide  or  inspire  their  under- 
standing; and  but  enough  of  understanding  to  seize  oc- 
casions and  frame  excuses  for  their  heartlessness. 
Without  affection,  they  are  also  without  shame;  there 
being  barely  so  much  of  human  blood  in  their  veins,  as 
may  serve  to  quicken  the  brain,  without  sending  a  blush 
to  the  cheek.  Their  hypocrisy  acts  as  the  instinctive 
cunning  of  selfishness;  with  a  sort  of  hell-inspired  tact 
they  feel  their  way  for  a  fit  occasion,  but  drop  the  mask 
as  soon  as  their  ends  are  reached.  There  is  a  smooth, 
glib  rhetoric  in  their  professions  of  love,  unwarmed  with 
the  least  grace  of  real  feeling,  and  a  certain  wiry  viru- 
lence and  intrepidity  of  thought  in  their  after-speaking, 
that  is  almost  terrific.  No  touch  of  nature  finds  a  re- 
sponse in  their  bosoms;  no  atmosphere  of  comfort  can 
abide  their  presence:  we  feel  that  they  have  somewhat 
within  that  turns  the  milk  of  humanity  into  venom, 
which  all  the  wounds  they  can  inflict  are  but  opportu- 
nities for  casting. 

The  subordinate  plot  of  the  drama  serves  the  purpose 
of  relieving  the  improbability  of  their  conduct  towards 
their  father.  Some,  indeed,  have  censured  this  plot  as 
an  embarrassment  to  the  main  one;  forgetting,  perhaps, 
that  to  raise  and  sustain  the  feelings  at  any  great 
height,  there  must  be  some  breadth  of  basis.  A  degree 
of  evil,  which,  if  seen  altogether  alone,  would  strike  us 
as  superhuman,  makes  a  very  different  impression,  when 
it  has  the  support  of  proper  sympathies  and  associations. 
This  effect  is  in  a  good  measure  secured  by  Edmund's 
independent  concurrence  with  Goneril  and  Regan  in 
wickedness.  It  looks  as  if  some  malignant  planet  had 
set  the  elements  of  evil  astir  in  several  hearts  at  the  same 
time;  so  that  "  unnaturalness  between  the  child  and  the 
parent "  were  become,  sure  enough,  the  order  of  the 
day. 

i6 


KING  LEAR  Comments 

Besides,  the  agreement  of  the  sister-fiends  in  fihal 
ingratitude  might  seem,  of  itself,  to  argue  some  sisterly 
attachment  between  them.  So  that,  to  bring  out  their 
character  truly,  it  had  to  be  shown,  that  the  same  prin- 
ciple which  united  them  against  their  father  would,  on 
the  turning  of  occasion,  divide  them  against  each  other. 
Hence  the  necessity  of  bringing  them  forward  in  rela- 
tions adapted  to  set  them  at  strife.  In  Edmund,  ac- 
cordingly, they  find  a  character  wicked  enough,  and  en- 
ergetic enough  in  his  wickedness,  to  interest  their  feel- 
ings; and  because  they  are  both  aHke  interested  in  him, 
therefore  they  will  cut  their  way  to  him  through  each 
other's  life. 

Hudson  :  The  Works  of  Shakespeare, 

VI. 

The   Fool. 

The  Fool,  the  best  of  Shakespeare's  Fools,  made 
more  conspicuous  by  coming  after  the  insignificant 
Clown  in  Othello^  is  such  an  echo — mordantly  witty,  mar- 
vellously ingenious.  He  is  the  protest  of  sound  com- 
mon-sense against  the  foolishness  of  which  Lear  has 
been  guilty,  but  a  protest  that  is  pure  humour;  he  never 
complains,  least  of  all  on  his  own  account.  Yet  all  his 
foolery  produces  a  tragic  effect.  And  the  words  spoken 
by  one  of  the  knights,  "  Since  my  young  lady's  going 
into  France,  sir,  the  fool  hath  much  pined  away,"  atone 
for  all  his  sharp  speeches  in  Lear.  Amongst  Shake- 
speare's other  master-strokes  in  this  play  must  be  reck- 
oned that  of  exalting  the  traditional  clown,  the  buffoon, 
into  so  high  a  sphere  that  he  becomes  a  tragic  element 
of  the  first  order. 

In  no  other  play  of  Shakespeare's  has  the  Fool  so 
many  proverbial  words  of  wisdom.  Indeed,  the  whole 
piece  teems  with  such  words:  Lear's  ** '  Ay '  and  'no' 

17 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

too  was  no  good  divinity  ";  Edgar's  "  Ripeness  is  all"; 
Kent's  **  To  be  acknowledged,  madam,  is  o'erpaid." 
Brandes  :  William  Shakespeare. 


.  That  exquisite  scherzo  to  Cordelia's  andante 
— the  Fool.  This  characteristic  type  of  the  Comedies 
appears  nowhere  else  in  tragedy;  but  in  the  close  of  the 
comic  period  we  find  the  Fool  shaping  towards  the  func- 
tions he  performs  in  Lear.  Frankness  was  his  official 
prerogative;  fidelity  his  added  grace.  The  calamities 
of  As  You  Like  It  are  as  the  passing  of  a  summer  cloud 
compared  with  those  of  Lear;  but  such  as  they  are, 
Touchstone  shares  in  them,  throwing  in  his  lot  with  his 
banished  mistresses,  and  pricking  their  romantic  extrav- 
agances with  the  rough-hewn  bolts  of  his  dry  brain. 
The  overwhelming  pathos  of  Lear  is  evolved  from  a  sit- 
uation in  itself  quite  as  capable  of  yielding  farce;  and  as 
the  tragedy  deepens,  humour  melts  into  pathos  in  the 
chorus-like  comments  of  the  more  exquisite  and  finely- 
tempered  Touchstone  who  follows  the  king  into  the  night 
and  storm,  and  vanishes  from  our  ken,  Hke  a  wild  dream- 
fancy,  when  the  troubled  morning  breaks. 

Herford:  The  Works  of  Shakespeare. 

VII. 

Edmund. 

Our  eyes  have  been  questioning  him.  Gifted  as  he  is 
with  high  advantages  of  person,  and  further  endowed  by 
nature  with  a  powerful  intellect  and  a  strong  energetic 
will,  even  without  any  concurrence  of  circumstances  and 
accident,  pride  will  necessarily  be  the  sin  that  most  easily 
besets  him.  But  Edmund  is  also  the  known  and  ac- 
knowledged son  of  the  princely  Gloster;  he,  therefore, 
has  both  the  germ  of  pride  and  the  conditions  best  fitted 

i8 


KING   LEAR  Comments 

to  evolve  and  ripen  it  into  a  predominant  feeling.  Yet 
hitherto  no  reason  appears  w^hy  it  should  be  other  than 
the  not  unusual  pride  of  person,  talent,  and  birth — a 
pride  auxiHary,  if  not  akin,  to  many  virtues,  and  the  nat- 
ural ally  of  honourable  impulses.  But,  alas!  in  his  own 
presence  his  own  father  takes  shame  to  himself  for  the 
frank  avowal  that  he  is  his  father — he  has  "  blushed  so 
often  to  acknowledge  him  that  he  is  now  brazed  to  it." 
This,  and  the  consciousness  of  its  notoriety; 
the  gnawing  conviction  that  every  show  of  respect  is  an 
effort  of  courtesy  which  recalls,  while  it  represses,  a 
contrary  feeling — this  is  the  ever  trickling  flow  of  worm- 
wood and  gall  into  the  wounds  of  pride;  the  corrosive 
vims  which  inoculates  pride  with  a  venom  not  its  own, 
with  envy,  hatred,  and  a  lust  for  that  power  which,  in  its 
blaze  of  radiance,  would  hide  the  dark  spots  on  his  disk; 
with  pangs  of  shame  personally  undeserved,  and  there- 
fore felt  as  wrongs;  and  with  a  blind  ferment  of  vin- 
dictive working  towards  the  occasions  and  causes,  espe- 
cially towards  a  brother,  whose  stainless  birth  and  law- 
ful honours  were  the  constant  remembrancers  of  his 
own  debasement,  and  were  ever  in  the  way  to  prevent 
all  chance  of  its  being  unknown  or  overlooked  and  for- 
gotton.  Add  to  this  that,  with  excellent  judgement,  and 
provident  for  the  claims  of  the  moral  sense;  for  that 
which,  relatively  to  the  drama,  is  called  poetic  justice, 
and  as  the  fittest  means  for  reconciling  the  feelings  of 
the  spectators  to  the  horrors  of  Gloster's  after-sufferings 
— at  least,  of  rendering  them  somewhat  less  unendurable 
(for  I  will  not  disguise  my  conviction  that  in  this  one 
point  the  tragic  in  this  play  has  been  urged  beyond  the 
outermost  mark  and  ne  plus  ultra  of  the  dramatic), 
Shakespeare  has  precluded  all  excuse  and  palliation  of 
the  guilt  incurred  by  both  the  parents  of  the  base-born 
Edmund,  by  Gloster's  confession  that  he  was  at  the 
time  a  married  man,  and  already  blest  with  a  lawful  heir 
of  his  fortunes. 

Coleridge:  Notes  and  Lectures  upon  Shakespeare, 

19 


Comments  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

VIII. 

Kent  and  Edgar. 

If  the  best  grace  and  happiness  of  Hfe  consist  in  a 
forgetting  of  self  and  a  Hving  for  others,  Kent  and 
Edgar  are  those  of  Shakespeare's  men  whom  one  should 
most  wish  to  resemble.  Strikingly  similar  in  virtues 
and  situation,  these  two  persons  are,  notwithstanding, 
widely  different  in  character.  Brothers  in  magnanimity 
and  in  misfortune;  equally  invincible  in  fidelity,  the  one 
to  his  King,  the  other  to  his  father;  both  driven  to  dis- 
guise themselves,  and  in  their  disguise  both  serving 
where  they  stand  condemned; — Kent,  too  generous  to 
control  himself,  is  always  quick,  fiery,  and  impetuous; 
Edgar,  controlling  himself  even  because  of  his  generos- 
ity, is  always  calm,  collected,  and  deliberate.  Yet  it  is 
difficult  which  of  them  to  prefer.  For,  if  Edgar  be  the 
more  judicious  and  prudent,  Kent  is  the  more  unselfish, 
of  the  two:  the  former  disguising  himself  for  his  own 
safety,  and  then  turning  his  disguise  into  an  opportunity 
of  service;  the  latter  disguising  himself  merely  in  order 
to  serve,  and  then  perilling  his  life  in  the  same  course 
whereby  the  other  seeks  to  preserve  it.  Nor  is  Edgar 
so  lost  to  himself  and  absorbed  in  others  but  that  he  can 
and  does  survive  them;  whereas  Kent's  life  is  so  bound 
up  with  others,  that  their  death  plucks  him  after. 

Hudson  :  The  Works  of  Shakespeare, 

IX. 

Leading  Features  of  the  Tragedy. 

Four  things  have  struck  us  in  reading  Lear: 
I.  That  poetry  is  an  interesting  study,  for  this  reason, 
that  it  relates  to  whatever  is  most  interesting  in  human 

20 


KING  LEAR  Comments 

life.     Whoever,   therefore,   has   a  contempt   for  poetry 
has  a  contempt  for  himself  and  humanity. 

2.  That  the  language  of  poetry  is  superior  to  the  lan- 
guage of  painting,  because  the  strongest  of  our  recol- 
lections relate  to  feelings,  not  to  faces. 

3.  That  the  greatest  strength  of  genius  is  shown  in  de- 
scribing the  strongest  passions;  for  the  power  of  the 
imagination,  in  works  of  invention,  must  be  in  propor- 
tion to  the  force  of  the  natural  impressions  which  are  the 
subject  of  them. 

4.  That  the  circumstance  which  balances  the  pleasure 
against  the  pain  in  tragedy  is,  that  in  proportion  to  the 
greatness  of  the  evil  is  our  sense  and*  desire  of  the  oppo- 
site good  excited;  and  that  our  sympathy  with  actual 
suffering  is  lost  in  the  strong  impulse  given  to  our  nat- 
ural affections,  and  carried  away  with  the  swelling  tide 
of  passion  that  gushes  from  and  reHeves  the  heart. 

Hazlitt:  Characters  of  Shakespear's  Plays, 


King  Lear  is,  indeed,  the  greatest  single  achieve- 
ment in  poetry  of  the  Teutonic,  or  Northern,  genius. 
By  its  largeness  of  conception  and  the  variety  of  its  de- 
tails, by  its  revelation  of  a  harmony  existing  between 
the  forces  of  nature  and  the  passions  of  man,  by  its  gro- 
tesqueness  and  its  sublimity,  its  own  kinship  with  the 
great  cathedrals  of  Gothic  architecture.  To  conceive,  to 
compass,  to  comprehend,  at  once  in  its  stupendous  unity 
and  in  its  almost  endless  variety,  a  building  Hke  the 
cathedral  of  Rheims,  or  that  of  Cologne,  is  a  feat  which 
might  seem  to  defy  the  most  athletic  imagination.  But 
the  impression  which  Shakspere's  tragedy  produces, 
while  equally  large — almost  monstrous — and  equally 
intricate,  lacks  the  material  fixity  and  determinateness 
of  that  produced  by  these  great  works  in  stone.  Every- 
thing in  the  tragedy  is  in  motion,  and  the  motion  is  that 
of  a  tempest. 

Do  WD  en:  Shakspere. 


Comments 

The  loss  of  a  Cordelia — that  is  the  great  catastrophe. 
We  all  lose,  or  live  under  the  dread  of  losing,  our  Cor- 
delia. The  loss  of  the  dearest  and  the  best,  of  that 
which  alone  makes  life  worth  living — that  is  the  tragedy 
of  life.  Hence  the  question:  Is  this  the  end  of  the 
world?  Yes,  it  is.  Each  of  us  has  only  his  world,  and 
lives  with  the  threat  of  its  destruction  hanging  over 
him.  And  in  the  year  1606  Shakespeare  w^as  in  no  mood 
to  write  other  than  dramas  on  the  doom  of  worlds. 

For  the  end  of  all  things  seems  to  have  come  when 
we  see  the  ruin  of  the  moral  world — when  he  who  is 
noble  and  trustful  like  Lear  is  rewarded  with  ingrati- 
tude and  hate;  when  he  who  is  honest  and  brave  Hke 
Kent  is  punished  with  dishonour;  when  he  who  is  mer- 
ciful like  Gloucester,  taking  the  suffering  and  injured 
under  his  roof,  has  the  loss  of  his  eyes  for  his  reward; 
when  he  w^ho  is  noble  and  faithful  like  Edgar  must  wan- 
der about  in  the  semblance  of  a  maniac,  with  a  rag  round 
his  loins;  when,  finally,  she  who  is  the  living  emblem 
of  womanly  dignity  and  of  filial  tenderness  towards  an 
old  father  who  has  become  as  it  were  her  child — when 
she  meets  her  death  before  his  eyes  at  the  hands  of 
assassins!  What  avails  it  that  the  guilty  slaughter  and 
poison  each  other  afterwards?  None  the  less  is  this  the 
titanic  tragedy  of  human  life;  there  rings  forth  from  it  a 
chorus  of  passionate,  jeering,  wildly  yearning,  and  des- 
perately wailing  voices. 

Brandes:  William  Shakespeare. 


22 


The  Tragedy  of  King  Lear. 


DRAMATIS   PERSONAE. 

Lear^  king  of  Britain. 

King  of  France. 

Duke  of  Burgundy. 

Duke  of  Cornwall. 

Duke  of  Albany. 

Earl  of  Kent. 

Earl  of  Gloucester. 

Edgar,  son  to  Gloucester. 

Edmund,  bastard  son  to  Gloucester, 

CuRAN,  a  courtier. 

Old  Man,  tenant  to  Gloucester. 

Doctor.  • 

Fool. 

Oswald,  steward  to  Goneril. 

A  captain  employed  by  Edmund. 

Gentleman  attendant  on  Cordelia. 

Herald. 

Servants  to  Cornwall. 

Goneril,      ^ 

Regan,         >  daughters  to  Lear. 

Cordelia,     ) 

Knights  of  Lear's  train,  Captains,  Messengers,  Soldiers, 
and  Attendants. 

Scene  :    Britain. 


The  Tragedy  of  King  Lear. 

ACT  FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

King  Lear's  palace. 
Enter  Kent,  Gloucester,  and  Edmund. 

Kent.  I  thought  the  king  had  more  affected  the  Duke 
of  Albany  than  Cornwall. 

Glou.  It  did  always  seem  so  to  us:  but  now,  in  the 
division  of  the  kingdom,  it  appears  not  which  of 
the  dukes  he  values  most;  for  equalities  are  so 
weighed  that  curiosity  in  neither  can  make 
choice  of  cither's  moiety. 

Kent.  Is  not  this  your  son,  my  lord? 

Glon.  His  breeding,  sir,  hath  been  at  my  charge :   I 

have  so  often  blushed  to  acknowledge  him  that     lo 
now  I  am  brazed  to  it. 

Kent.  I  cannot  conceive  you. 

Glou.  Sir,  this  young  fellow's  mother  could:  where- 
upon she  grew  round-wombed,  and  had  indeed, 
sir,  a  son  for  her  cradle  ere  she  had  a  husband 
for  her  bed.     Do  you  smell  a  fault? 

Kent.  I  cannot  wish  the  fault  undone,  the  issue  of  it 
being  so  proper. 

Glou.  But  I  have,  sir,  a  son  by  order  of  law,  some 

year  elder  than  this,  who  yet  is  no  dearer  in     20 
my  account :  though  this  knave  came  something 

25 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

saucily  into  the  world  before  he  was  sent  for, 
yet  was  his  mother  fair;  there  was  good  sport 
at  his  making,  and  the  whoreson  must  be  ac- 
knowledged. Do  you  know  this  noble  gentle- 
man, Edmund? 

Edm.  No,  my  lord. 

Glou.  My  lord  of  Kent:  remember  him  hereafter  as 
my  honourable  friend. 

Edm.  My  services  to  your  lordship.  30 

Kent.  I  must  love  you,  and  sue  to  know  you  better. 

Edm.  Sir,  I  shall  study  deserving. 

Glou.  He  hath  been  out  nine  years,  and  away  he 
shall  again.     The  king  is  coming. 

Sennet.    Enter  one  bearing  a  coronet,  King  Lear,  Cornwall, 
Albany,  Goneril,  Regan,  Cordelia,  and  Attendants. 

Lear.  Attend  the  lords  of  France  and  Burgundy,  Glou- 
cester. 

Glou.  I  shall,  my  liege.       [Exeunt  Gloucester  and  Edmund. 

Lear.  Meantime  we  shall  express  our  darker  purpose. 
Give  me  the  map  there,     ^^iiow  we  haye^divided 
In  thjree  our  kingdom :   and  'tis  our  fast  intent 
To  shake  all  cares  and  business  from  our  age,      40 
Conferring  them  on  younger  strengths,  while  we 
Unburthen'd  crawl  toward  death.    Our  son  of  Corn- 
wall, 
And  you,  our  no  less  loving  son  of  Albany, 
We  have  this  hour  a  constant  will  to  publish 
Our  daughters'  several  dowers,  thatjutiire__stnfe 
Maybe  preventedjoow.     The  princes,  France  and 

Burgundy, 
Great  rivals  in  our  youngest  daughter's  love, 

26 


r 


KING  LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Long  in  our  court  have  made  their  amorous  sojourn,  ^*^~^^  ^ 
And  here  are  to  be  answered.  Tell  me,  my  daughters,  uyi~u^ 
Since  now  we  will  divest  us  both  of  rule,  50    Hulxji, 

Interest  of  territory,  cares  of  state,  /         n 

Which  of  you  shall  we  say  doth  love  us  most?  ; 

That  we  our  largest  boimty  may  extend  r"  "^ 

Where  nature  doth  with  merit  challenge.     Goneril,    '^''^ 
Our  eldest-born,  speak  first. 

Gon.  Sir,  I  love  you  more  than  words   can  wield   the 
matter, 
Dearer  than  eye-sight,  space  and  liberty. 
Beyond  what  can  be  valued,  rich  or  rare, 
No  less  than  life,  with  grace,  health,  beauty,  honour. 
As  much  as  child  e'er  loved  or  father  found;         60 
A  love  that  makes  breath  poor  and  speech  unable; 
Beyond  all  manner  of  so  much  I  love  you. 

Cor.  \Asidc\  What   shall    Cordelia   do?     Love,   and   be 
silent. 

Lear.  Of  all  these  bounds,  even  from  this  line  to  this. 
With  shadowy  forests  and  with  champains  rich'd, 
With  plenteous  rivers  and  wide-skirted  meads. 
We  make  thee  lady.     To  thine  and  Albany's  issue 
Be  this  perpetual.     What  says  our  second  daughter. 
Our  dearest  Regan,  wife  to  Cornwall?     Speak. 

Reg.  I  am  made  of  that  self  metal  as  my  sister,  70 

And  prize  me  at  her  worth.     In  my  true  heart 
I  find  she  names  my  very  deed  of  love; 
Only  she  comes  too  short :   that  I  profess 
Myself  an  enemy  to  all  other  joys 
Which    the    most    precious    square    of    sense    pos- 
sesses, 
And  find  I  am  alone  felicitate 
In  your  dear  highness'  love. 

27 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

Cor.  [Aside]  Then  poor  Cordelia! 

And  yet  not  so,  since  I  am  sure  my  love  's 
]VIore  ponderous  than  my  tongue.  80 

Lear,  To  thee  and  thine  hereditary  ever 

Remain  this  ample  third  of  our  fair  kingdom, 
No  less  in  space,  validity  and  pleasure. 
Than  that  conferr'd  on  Goneril.     Now,  our  joy, 
Although  the  last,  not  least,  to  whose  young  love 
The  vines  of  France  and  milk  of  Burgundy 
Strive  to  be  interess'd,  what  can  you  say  to  draw 
A  third  more  opulent  than  your  sisters?     Speak. 

Cor.  Nothing,  my  lord. 

Lear.  Nothing!  90 

Cor.  Nothing. 

Lear.  Nothing  will  come  of  notliing:    speak  again. 

Cor.  Unhappy  that  I  am,  I  cannot  heave 

My  heart  into  my  mouth:  I  love  your  majesty 
According  to  my  bond ;   nor  more  nor  less. 

Lear,  How,  how,  CordeHa!   mend  your  speech  a  little. 
Lest  it  may  mar  your  fortunes. 

Cor.  Good,  my  lord. 

You  have  begot  me,  bred  me,  loved  me:  I 
Return  those  duties  back  as  are  right  fit, 
Obey  you,  love  you,  and  most  honour  you.  100 

Why  have  my  sisters  husbands,  if  they  say 
They  love  you  all?     Haply,  when  I  shall  wed, 
That  lord  whose  hand  must  take  my  plight  shall 

carry 
Half  my  love  with  him,  half  my  care  and  duty: 
Sure,  I  shall  never  marry  like  my  sisters. 
To  love  my  father  all. 

Lear.  But  goes  thy  heart  with  this? 

28 


KING   LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Cor.  Ay,  good  my  lord. 

Lear.  So  young,  and  so  untender? 

Cor.  So  young,  my  lord,  and  true. 

Lear.  Let  it  be  so;  thy  truth  then  be  thy  dower;  no 

For,  by  the  sacred  radiance  of  the  sun. 
The  mysteries  of  Hecate,  and  the  night; 
By  all  the  operation  of  the  orbs 
From  whom  we  do  exist  and  cease  to  be; 
Here  I  disclaim  all  my  paternal  care, 
Propinquity  and  property  of  blood. 
And  as  a  stranger  to  my  heart  and  me 
Hold    thee    from    this    for    ever.     The    barbarous 

Scythian, 
Or  he  that  makes  his  generation  messes 
To  gorge  his  appetite,  shall  to  my  bosom  120 

Be  as  well  neighbour'd,  pitied  and  reheved. 
As  thou  my  sometime  daughter. 

Kent.  Good  my  liege, — 

Lear.  Peace,  Kent! 

Come  not  between  the  dragon  and  his  wrath. 

I  loved  her  most,  and  thought  to  set  my  rest 

On  her  kind  nursery.     Hence,  and  avoid  my  sight! 

So  be  my  grave  my  peace,  as  here  I  give 

Her  father's  heart  from  her!     Call  France.     Who 

stirs? 
Call  Burgundy.     Cornwall  and  Albany, 
With  my  two  daughters'  dowers  digest  this  third: 
Let  pride,  which  she  calls  plainness,  marry  her.     131 
I  do  invest  you  jointly  with  my  power, 
Pre-eminence  and  all  the  large  effects 
That    troop    with    majesty.     Ourself,    by  monthly 

course. 
With  reservation  of  an  hundred  knights 

29 


Act  I.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

By  you  to  be  sustain'd,  shall  our  abode 

Make  with  you  by  due  turns.     Only  we  still  retain 

The  name  and  all  the  additions  to  a  king; 

The  sway,  revenue,  execution  of  the  rest, 

Beloved  sons,  be  yours:  which  to  confirm,  140 

This  coronet  part  betwixt  you. 
Kent.  Royal  Lear, 

Whom  I  have  ever  honour'd  as  my  king, 

Loved  as  my  father,  as  my  master  follow'd, 

As  my  great  patron  thought  on  in  my  prayers, — 
Lear.  The  bow  is  bent  and  drawn ;   make  from  the  shaft. 
Kent.  Let  it  fall  rather,  though  the  fork  invade 

The  region  of  my  heart:  be  Kent  unmannerly, 

When  Lear  is  mad.     What  wouldst  thou  do,  old 
man? 

Think'st  thou  that  duty  shall  have  dread  to  speak, 

When  power  to  flattery  bows?     To  plainness  hon- 
our 's  bound,  150 

When  majesty  stoops  to  folly.     Reverse  thy  doom. 

And  in  thy  best  consideration  check 

This  hideous  rashness:    answer  my  life  my  judge- 
ment, 

Thy  youngest  daughter  does  not  love  thee  least; 

Nor  are  those  empty-hearted  whose  low  sound 

Reverbs  no  hollowness. 
Lear.  Kent,  on  thy  life,  no  more. 

Kent.  My  life  I  never  held  but  as  a  pawn 

To  wage  against  thy  enemies,  nor  fear  to  lose  it, 

Thy  safety  being  the  motive. 
Lear.  Out  of  my  sight! 

Kent.  See  better,  Lear,  and  let  me  still  remain  160 

The  true  blank  of  thine  eye. 
Lear.  Now,  by  Apollo, — 
Kent.  Now,  by  Apollo,  king, 

30 


KING   LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

Thou  swear'st  thy  gods  in  vain. 
Lear.  O,  vassal!  miscreant! 

[Laying  his  hand  on  his  sword. 

^    '        \  Dear  sir,  forbear. 


} 


Kent.  Do; 

Kill  thy  physician,  and  the  fee  bestow 
Upon  the  foul  disease.     Revoke  thy  doom; 
Or,  whilst  I  can  vent  clamour  from  my  throat, 
I  '11  tell  thee  thou  dost  evil. 

Lear.  Hear  me,  recreant! 

On  thy  allegiance,  hear  me !  17° 

Since  thou  hast  sought  to  make  us  break  our  vow, 
Which  we  durst  never  yet,  and  with  strain'd  pride 
To  come  between  our  sentence  and  our  power. 
Which  nor  our  nature  nor  our  place  can  bear, 
Our  potency  made  good,  take  thy  reward. 
Five  days  we  do  allot  thee,  for  provision 
To  shield  thee  from  diseases  of  the  world, 
And  on  the  sixth  to  turn  thy  hated  back 
Upon  our  kingdom:  if  on  the  tenth  day  following 
Thy  banish'd  trunk  be  found  in  our  dominions,     i8o 
The  moment  is  thy  death.     Away!    By  Jupiter, 
This  shall  not  be  revoked. 

Kent.  Fare  thee  well,  king:  sith  thus  thou  wih  appear. 
Freedom  lives  hence,  and  banishment  is  here. 
\To  Cordelia]    The  gods  to  their  dear  shelter  take 

thee,  maid. 
That  justly  think'st  and  hast  most  rightly  said! 
{To  Regan  and  Goncril]  And  your  large  speeches  may 

your  deeds  approve. 
That  good  effects  may  spring  from  words  of  love. 

31 


Actl.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Thus  Kent,  O  princes,  bids  you  all  adieu; 

He  '11  shape  his  old  course  in  a  country  new.     [Exit. 

Flourish.     Re-enter  Gloucester,  with  France,  Burgundy, 
and  Attendants. 

Glou.  Here  's  France  and  Burgundy,  my  noble  lord.   191 
Lear.  My  lord  of  Burgundy, 

We  first  address  towards  you,  who  with  this  king 

Hath  rivall'd  for  our  daughter:  what,  in  the  least, 

Will  you  require  in  present  dower  with  her, 

Or  cease  your  quest  of  love? 
Bur.  Most  royal  majesty, 

I  crave  no  more  than  what  your  highness  offer'd, 

Nor  will  you  tender  less. 
Lear.  Right  noble  Burgundy, 

When  she  was  dear  to  us,  we  did  hold  her  so; 

But  now  her  price  is  fall'n.     Sir,  there  she  stands: 

If  aught  within  that  little  seeming  substance,         201 

Or  all  of  it,  with  our  displeasure  pieced. 

And  nothing  more,  may  fitly  like  your  grace, 

She  's  there,  and  she  is  yours. 
Bur.  I  know  no  answer. 

Lear.  Will  you,  with  those  infirmities  she  owes, 

Unfriended,  new  adopted  to  our  hate, 

Dower'd  with  our  curse  and  stranger'd  with  our 
oath, 

Take  her,  or  leave  her? 
Bur.  Pardon  me,  royal  sir; 

Election  makes  not  up  on  such  conditions. 
Lear.  Then  leave  her,  sir;    for,  by  the  power  that  made 
me, 

I  tell  you  all  her  wealth.  [To  France]  For  you,  great 
king,  211 

I  would  not  from  your  love  make  such  a  stray, 

32 


KING   LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

To  match  you  where  I  hate  ;  therefore  beseech  you 
To  avert  your  liking  a  more  worthier  way 
Than  on  a  wretch  whom  nature  is  ashamed 
Almost  to  acknowledge  hers. 
France.  This  is  most  strange, 

That  she,  that  even  but  now  was  your  best  object, 
The  argument  of  your  praise,  balm  of  your  age. 
Most  best,  most  dearest,  should  in  this  trice  of  time 
Commit  a  thing  so  monstrous,  to  dismantle  220 

So  many  folds  of  favour.     Sure,  her  offence 
Must  be  of  such  unnatural  degree 
That  monsters  it,  or  your  fore-vouch'd  affection 
Fall'n  into  taint:  which  to  believe  of  her, 
'  Must  be  a  faith  that  reason  without  miracle 
Could  never  plant  in  me. 

Cor.  I  yet  beseech  your  majesty, — 

If  for  I  want  that  glib  and  oily  art. 
To  speak  and  purpose  not,  since  what  I  well  intend, 
I  '11  do  't  before  I  speak, — that  you  make  known 
It  is  no  vicious  blot,  murder,  or  foulness,  230 

No  unchaste  action,  or  dishonour'd  step. 
That  hath  deprived  me  of  your  grace  and  favour; 
But  even  for  want  of  that  for  which  I  am  richer, 
A  still-soliciting  eye,  and  such  a  tongue 
As  I  am  glad  I  have  not,  though  not  to  have  it 
Hath  lost  me  in  your  liking. 

Lear.  Better  thou 

Hadst  not  been  born  than  not  to  have  pleased  me 
better. 

France.  Is  it  but  this?  a  tardiness  in  nature 
Which  often  leaves  the  history  unspoke 
That  it  intends  to  do?     My  lord  of  Burgundy,       240 
What  say  you  to  the  lady?     Love  's  not  love 

33 


Actl.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

When  it  is  mingled  with  regards  that  stand 
Aloof  from  the  entire  point.     Will  you  have  her? 
She  is  herself  a  dowry. 

Bur.  Royal  Lear, 

Give  but  that  portion  which  yourself  proposed, 
And  here  I  take  Cordeha  by  the  hand, 
Duchess  of  Burgundy. 

Lear.  Nothing:  I  have  sworn;  I  am  firm. 

Bur.  I  am  sorry  then  you  have  so  lost  a  father 
That  you  must  lose  a  husband. 

Cor.  Peace  be  with  Burgundy! 

Since  that  respects  of  fortune  are  his  love,  251 

I  shall  not  be  his  wife. 

France.  Fairest  Cordelia,  that  art  most  rich  being  poor. 
Most  choice  forsaken,  and  most  loved  despised. 
Thee  and  thy  virtues  here  I  seize  upon: 
Be  it  lawful  I  take  up  what 's  cast  away. 
Gods,  gods!  'tis  strange  that  from  their  cold'st  neg- 
lect 
My  love  should  kindle  to  inflamed  respect. 
Thy  dowerless  daughter,  king,  thrown  to  my  chance, 
Is  queen  of  us,  of  ours,  and  our  fair  France:         260 
Not  all  the  dukes  of  waterish  Burgundy 
Can  buy  this  unprized  precious  maid  of  me. 
Bid  them  farewell,  Cordelia,  though  unkind : 
Thou  losest  here,  a  better  where  to  find. 

Lear.  Thou  hast  her,  France:  let  her  be  thine,  for  we 
Have  no  such  daughter,  nor  shall  ever  see 
That  face  of  hers  again.     Therefore  be  gone 
Without  our  grace,  our  love,  our  benison. 
Come,  noble  Burgundy. 

[Flourish.     Exeunt  all  but  France, 
Goneril,  Regan,  and  Cordelia. 

34 


KING   LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  i. 

France.  Bid  farewell  to  your  sisters.  270 

Cor.  The  jewels  of  our  father,  with  wash'd  eyes 

Cordelia  leaves  you:  I  know  you  what  you  are; 

And,  like  a  sister,  am  most  loath  to  call 

Your  faults  as  they  are  named.    Us^  well  our  father: 

To  your  professed  bosoms  I  commit  him: 

But  yet,  alas,  stood  I  within  his  grace, 

I  would  prefer  him  to  a  better  place. 

So  farewell  to  you  both. 
Reg.  Prescribe  not  us  our  duties. 
Gon.  Let  your  study 

Be  to  content  your  lord,  who  hath  received  you    280 

At  fortune's  alms.     You  have  obedience  scanted, 

And  well  are  worth  the  want  that  you  have  wanted. 
Cor.  Time  shall  unfold  w^hat  plaited  cunning  hides: 

Who  cover  faults,  at  last  shame  them  derides. 

Well  may  you  prosper! 
France.  Come,  my  fair  Cordelia. 

[Exeunt  France  and  Cordelia. 

Gon.  Sister,  it  is  not  a  little  I  have  to  say  of  what 
most  nearly  appertains  to  us  both.  I  think  our 
father  will  hence  to-night. 

Reg.  That 's  most  certain, and  with  you;  next  month  ^^ 

with  us.  290  "*-      /^ 

Gon.  You  see  how  full  of  changes  his  age  is ;    the  \^>^-^^ 

observation  we  have  made  of  it  hath  not  been 
little :  he  alw^ays  loved  our  sister  most ;  and  with 
what  poor  judgement  he  hath  now  cast  her  off 
appears  too  grossly. 

Reg.  Tis  the  infirmity  of  his  age:  yet  he  hath  ever 
but  slenderly  known  himself. 

Gon.  The  best  and  soundest  of  his  time  hath  been 

35 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

but  rash;  then  must  we  look  to  receive  from 
his  age,  not  alone  the  imperfections  of  long  in-  300 
grafted  condition,  but  therewithal  the  unruly 
waywardness    that    infirm    and    choleric    years 
bring  with  them. 

Reg.  Such  unconstant  starts  are  we  like  to  have  from 
him  as  this  of  Kent's  banishment. 

Gon.  There    is    further   compliment  of   leave-taking 
between  France  and  him.     Pray  you,  let 's  hit 
together :  if  our  father  carry  authority  with  such 
dispositions  as  he  bears,  this  last  surrender  of 
his  will  but  offend  us.  310 

Reg.  We  shall  further  think  on  't.  v 

Gvn.  We  must  do  something,  and  i'  the  heat.        [Exeunt. 


Scene   II. 

TJie  Earl  of  Gloucester's  castle. 

Enter  Edmund,  with  a  letter. 

Edm.  Thou,  nature,  art  my  goddess ;   to  thy  law 
My  services  are  bound.     Wherefore  should  I 
Stand  in  the  plague  of  custom,  and  permit 
The  curiosity  of  nations  to  deprive  me, 
For  that  I  am  some  twelve  or  fourteen  moonshines 
Lag  of  a  brother?     Why  bastard?  wherefore  base? 
When  my  dimensions  are  as  well  compact, 
My  mind  as  generous  and  my  shape  as  true, 
As  honest  madam's  issue?     Why  brand  they  us 
With  base?  with  baseness?  bastardy?  base,  base? 
Who  in  the  lusty  stealth  of  nature  take  ii 

More  composition  and  fierce  quality 

36 


KING  LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Than  doth,  within  a  dull,  stale,  tired  bed, 

Go  to  the  creating  a  whole  tribe  of  fops. 

Got  'tween  asleep  and  wake?     Well  then, 

Legitimate  Edgar,  I  must  have  your  land: 

Our  father's  love  is  to  the  bastard  Edmund 

As  to  the  legitimate:  fine  word,  '  legitimate  '  ! 

Well,  my  legitimate,  if  this  letter  speed 

And  my  invention  thrive,  Edmund  the  base  20 

Shall  top  the  legitimate.     I  grow;  I  prosper: 

Now,  gods,  stand  up  for  bastards! 

Enter  Gloucester. 

Glou.  Kent  banish'd  thus!  and  France  in  choler  parted! 
And  the  king  gone  to-night!  subscribed  his  power! 
Confined  to  exhibition!     All  this  done 
Upon  the  gad!     Edmund,  how  now!  what  news? 

Edm.  So  please  your  lordship,  none. 

[Putting  up  the  letter. 

Glou.  Why  so  earnestly  seek  you  to  put  up  that  letter? 

Edm.  I  know  no  news,  my  lord. 

Glou.  What  paper  were  you  reading?  30 

Edm.  Nothing,  my  lord. 

Glou.  No?  What  needed  then  that  terrible  dispatch 
of  it  into  your  pocket?  the  quality  of  nothing 
hath  not  such  need  to  hide  itself.  Let's  see: 
come,  if  it  be  nothing,  I  shall  not  need 
spectacles. 

Edm,.  I  beseech  you,  sir,  pardon  me:  it  is  a  letter 
from  my  brother,  that  I  have  not  all  o'er-read; 
and  for  so  much  as  I  have  perused,  I  find  it 
not  fit  for  your  o'er-looking.  40 

Glou.  Give  me  the  letter,  sir. 

37 


Actl.Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Edm.  I  shall  offend,  either  to  detain  or  give  it.  The 
contents,  as  in  part  I  understand  them,  are  to 
blame. 

Glou.  Let 's  see,  let 's  see. 

Edm.  I  hope,  for  my  brother's  justification,  he  wrote 
this  but  as  an  essay  or  taste  of  my  virtue. 

Glou.  [Reads]  '  This  policy  and  reverence  of  age 
makes  the  w^orld  bitter  to  the  best  of  our  times; 
keeps  our  fortunes  from  us  till  our  oldness  50 
cannot  relish  them.  I  begin  to  find  an  idle  and 
fond  bondage  in  the  oppression  of  aged 
tyranny;  who  sways,  not  as  it  hath  power,  but 
as  it  is  suffered.  Come  to  me,  that  of  this  I 
may  speak  more.  If  our  father  would  sleep  till 
I  waked  him,  you  should  enjoy  half  his  revenue 
for  ever,  and  Hve  the  beloved  of  your  brother, 

'  Edgar.' 

Hum!     Conspiracy! — 'Sleep  till  I  waked  him, 
you  should  enjoy  half  his  revenue!' — My  son 
Edgar!     Had  he  a  hand  to  write  this?  a  heart     60 
and  brain  to  breed  it  in?     When  came  this  to 
you?  who  brought  it? 

Edm.  It  was  not  brought  me,  my  lord;  there  's  the 
cunning  of  it;  I  found  it  thrown  in  at  the  case- 
ment of  my  closet. 

Glou.  You  know  the  character  to  be  your  brother's? 

Edm.  If  the  matter  were  good,  my  lord,  I  durst 
swear  it  were  his;  but,  in  respect  of  that,  I 
would  fain  think  it  were  not. 

Glou.  It  is  his.  70 

Edm.  It  is  his  hand,  my  lord ;  but  I  hope  his  heart  is 
not  in  the  contents. 

38 


KING  LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  ii. 

Gloii.  Hath  he  never  heretofore  sounded  you  in  this 
business? 

Edm.  Never,  my  lord:  but  I  have  heard  him  oft 
maintain  it  to  be  fit,  that,  sons  at  perfect  age, 
and  fathers  declining,  the  father  should  be  as 
ward  to  the  son,  and  the  son  manage  his 
revenue. 

Glou.  O   villain,  villain!     His   very   opinion  in  the 

letter!    Abhorred  villain!     Unnatural,  detested,     80 
brutish  villain  !  worse  than  brutish  !     Go,  sirrah, 
seek  him;     ay,    apprehend    him:     abominable 
villain!     Where  is  he? 

Edm.  I  do  not  well  know,  my  lord.  If  it  shall  please 
you  to  suspend  your  indignation  against  my 
brother  till  you  can  derive  from  him  better 
testimony  of  his  intent,  you  should  run  a  certain 
course;  where,  if  you  violently  proceed  against 
him,  mistaking  his  purpose,  it  would  make  a 
great  gap  in  your  own  honour  and  shake  in  90 
pieces  the  heart  of  his  obedience.  I  dare  pawn 
down  my  life  for  him  that  he  hath  wrote  this  to 
feel  my  affection  to  your  honour  and  to  no 
further  pretence  of  danger. 

Glou.  Think  you  so? 

Edm.  If  your  honour  judge  it  meet,  I  will  place  you 
where  you  shall  hear  us  confer  of  this,  and  by  an 
auricular  assurance  have  your  satisfaction,  and 
that  without  any  further  delay  than  this  very 
evening. 
Glou.  He  cannot  be  such  a  monster — 

Edm.  Nor  is  not,  sure. 

Glou.  To  his  father,  that  so  tenderly  and  entirely 
loves  him.     Heaven  and  earth!     Edmund,  seek 

39 


100 


Actl.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

him  out;  wind  me  into  him,  I  pray  you:  frame 
the  business  after  your  own  wisdom.  I  would 
unstate  myself,  to  be  in  a  due  resolution. 

Edni.  I  will  seek  him,'  sir,  presently,  convey  the 
business  as  I  shall  find  means,  and  acquaint  you 
withal.  no 

Gloii.  These  late  eclipses  in  the  sun  and  moon  portend 
no  good  to  us:   though  the  wisdom  of  nature 

>■  can  reason  it  thus  and  thus,  yet  nature  finds 

.<-^         itself  scourged   by  the   sequent   effects:    love 

^y'  cools,  friendship  falls  ofif,  brothers  divide:    in 

cities,  mutinies ;  in  countries,  discord ;  in  pal- 
aces, treason ;  and  the  bond  cracked  'twixt  son 
and  father.  This  villain  of  mine  comes  under 
the  prediction;  there's  son  against  father:  the 
king  falls  from  bias  of  nature;  there's  father  120 
against  child.  We  have  seen  the  best  of  our 
time:  machinations,  hollowness,  treachery  and 
all  ruinous  disorders  follow  us  disquietly  to  our 
graves.  Find  out  this  villain,  Edmund;  it  shall 
lose  thee  nothing;  do  it  carefully.  And  the 
noble  and  true-hearted  Kent  banished!  his 
offence,  honesty!     'Tis  strange.  [Exit. 

Edm,  This  is  the  excellent  foppery  of  the  world,  that 
<r>         when  we  are  sick  in  fortune — often  the  surfeit 
)^  of  our  own  behaviour — we  make  guilty  of  our  130 

^    '  /     disasters  the  sun,  the  moon  and  the  stars :   as  if 

^      -C  we  were  villains  by  necessity,  fools  by  heavenly 

^*  compulsion ;    knaves,  thieves  and  treachers,  by 

^  spherical  predominance;    drunkards,  liars  and 

adulterers,  by  an  enforced  obedience  of  planetary 

influence;    and  all  that  we  are  evil  in,  by  a 

40 


KING  LEAR  ^^^  ^-  ^^-  "• 

divine  thrusting  on:  an  admirable  evasion  of 
whoremaster  man,  to  lay  his  goatish  disposition 
to  the  charge  of  a  star !  My  father  compounded 
with  my  mother  under  the  dragon's  tail,  and  my  140 
nativity  was  under  Ursa  major;  so  that  it  fol- 
lows I  am  rough  and  lecherous.  Tut,  I  should 
have  been  that  I  am,  had  the  maidenhest  star  m 
the   firmament   twinkled   on   my   bastardizing. 

Edgar — 

Enter  Edgar. 

And  pat  he  comes  like  the  catastrophe  of  the 
old  comedy:  my  cue  is  viUanous  melancholy, 
with  a  sigh  like  Tom  o'  Bedlam  O,  these 
eclipses  do  portend  these  divisions!   fa,  sol,  la, 


mi. 


Edg.  How   now,   brother   Edmund!    what   serious 

contemplation  are  you  in?  _  ^5° 

Edm.  I  am  thinking,  brother,  of  a  prediction  I  read 
this    other    day,    what    should    follow    these 
eclipses. 
Edz    Do  you  busy  yourself  about  that? 
Edm.  I  promise  you,  the  effects  he  writ  of  succeed 
unhappily ;  as  of  unnaturalness  between  the  child 
and  the  parent ;  death,  dearth,  dissolutions  of 
ancient  amities;  divisions  in  state,  menaces  and 
maledictions  against  king  and. nobles;  needless 
diffidences,  banishment  of  friends,  dissipation 
of  cohorts,  nuptial  breaches,  and  I  know  not  160 

what.  .     1  -, 

Edg    How  long  have  you  been  a  sectary  astronomical? 
Edm.  Come,  come;   when  saw  you  my  father  last. 
Edg.  Why,  the  night  gone  by. 
Edm.  Spake  you  with  him? 
Edg.  Ay,  two  hours  together. 


41 


Act  I.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Edm.  Parted  you  in  good  terms?  Found  you  no 
displeasure  in  him  by  word  or  countenance? 

Edg.  None  at  all. 

Edm.  Bethink  yourself  wherein  you  may  have  of-  170 
fended  him:  and  at  my  entreaty  forbear  his 
presence  till  some  little  time  hath  qualified  the 
heat  of  his  displeasure,  which  at  this  instant  so 
rageth  in  him  that  with  the  mischief  of  your 
person  it  would  scarcely  allay. 

Edg.  Some  villain  hath  done  me  wrong. 

Edm.  That 's  my  fear.  I  pray  you,  have  a  continent 
forbearance  till  the  speed  of  his  rage  goes 
slower,  and,  as  I  say,  retire  with  me  to  my  lodg- 
ing, from  whence  I  will  fitly  bring  you  to  hear  180 
my  lord  speak:  pray  ye,  go;  there 's  my  key:  if 
you  do  stir  abroad,  go  armed. 

Edg.  Armed,  brother! 

Edm.  Brother,  I  advise  you  to  the  best:  go  armed: 
I  am  no  honest  man  if  there  be  any  good  mean- 
ing towards  you:  I  have  told  you  what  I  have 
seen  and  heard;  but  faintly,  nothing  like  the 
image  and  horror  of  it:  pray  you,  away. 

Edg.  Shall  I  hear  from  you  anon?  189 

Edm.  I  do  serve  you  in  this  business.  [Exit  Edgar. 

A  credulous  father,  and  a  brother  noble, 
Whose  nature  is  so  far  from  doing  harms 
I  That  he  suspects  none>  on  whose  foolish  honesty 
My  practices  ride  easy.     I  see  the  business. 
Let  me,  if  not  by  birth,  have  lands  by  wit: 
All  with  me  's  meet  that  I  can  fashion  fit.         ^Exit. 


42 


^^■ 


KING   LEAR  Act  I.Sc.  iii. 

Scene   III. 

The  Duke  of  Albany's  palace. 
Enter  Goneril  and  Oswald,  her  steward. 

Gon.  Did  my  father  strike  my  gentleman  for  chiding 
of  his  fool? 

Oszv.  Yes,  madam. 

Gon.  By  day  and  night  he  wrongs  me;  every  hour 
He  flashes  into  one  gross  crime  or  other, 
That  sets  us  all  at  odds:  I  '11  not  endure  it: 
His  knights  grow  riotous,  and  himself  upbraids  us 
On  every  trifle.  When  he  returns  from  hunting, 
I  will  not  speak  with  him;  say  I  am  sick: 
If  you  come  slack  of  former  services. 
You  shall  do  well ;  the  fault  of  it  I  '11  answer.  lo 

Osw.  He  's  coming,  madam ;   I  hear  him.    [Horjis  within. 

Gon.  Put  on  what  weary  negligence  you  please. 

You  and  your  fellows;    I  'Id  have  it  come  to  ques- 
tion : 
If  he  distaste  it,  let  him  to  our  sister, 
Whose  mind  and  mine,  I  know,  in  that  are  one, 
Not  to  be  over-ruled.     Idle  old  man, 
That  still  would  manage  those  authorities 
That  he  hath  given  away!     Now,  by  my  life, 
Old  fools  are  babes  again,  and  must  be  used 
With  checks  as  flatteries,  when  they  are  seen  abused. 
Remember  what  I  tell  you. 

Osw.  Very  well,  madam.         21 

Gon.  And  let  his  knights  have  colder  looks  among  you; 
What  grows  of  it,  no  matter;  advise  your  fellows  so : 
I  would  breed  from  hence  occasions,  and  I  shall, 
That  I  may  speak:   I  '11  write  straight  to  my  sister. 
To  hold  my  very  course.     Prepare  for  dinner. 

[Exeunt. 
43 


Actl.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  IV. 

A  hall  in  the  same. 

Enter  Kent,  disguised. 

Kent.  If  but  as  well  I  other  accents  borrow, 

That  can  my  speech  defuse,  my  good  intent 

May  carry  through  itself  to  that  full  issue 

For   which   I   razed   my   likeness.     Now,   banish'd 

Kent, 
If  thou   canst   serve   where   thou   dost   stand   con- 

demn'd, 
So  may  it  come,  thy  master  whom  thou  lovest 
Shall  find  thee  full  of  labours. 

Horns  zuithin.     Enter  Lear,  Knights,  and  Attendants. 
Lear.  Let  me  not  stay  a  jot  for  dinner;    go  get  it 

ready.     {Exit  an  Attendant.']     How  now!   what 

art  thou?  lo 

Kent.  A  man^  sir. 
Lear.    What  dost  thou  profess?     What  wouldst  thou 

with  us? 
Kent.  I  do  profess  to  be  no  less  than  I  seem;    to 

serve  him  truly  that  will  put  me  in  trust;    to 

love  him  that  is  honest;    to  converse  with  him 

that  is  wise  and  says  little;   to  fear  judgement; 

to  fight  when  I  cannot  choose,  and  to  eat  no 

fish. 
Lear.  What  art  thou? 
Kent.  A  very  honest-hearted  fellow,  and  as  poor  as     20 

the  king. 
Lear.  If  thou  be  as  poor  for  a  subject  as  he  is  for  a 

king,  thou   art  poor  enough.     What   wouldst 

thou? 
Kent.  Service. 

Lear.  Who  wouldst  thou  serve? 

44 


KING   LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

Kent.  You. 

Lear.  Dost  thou  know  me,  fellow? 

Kent.  No,  sir;  but  you  have  that  in  your  counte- 
nance which  I  would  fain  call  master. 

Lear.  What 's  that  ?  30 

Kent.  Authority. 

Lear.  What  services  canst  thou  do? 

Kent.  I  can  keep  honest  counsel,  ride,  run,  mar  a 
curious  tale  in  telling  it,  and  deliver  a  plain  mes- 
sage bluntly:  that  which  ordinary  men  are  fit 
for,  I  am  qualified  in,  and  the  best  of  me  is  dili- 
gence. 

Lear.  How  old  art  thou? 

Kent.  Not  so  young,  sir,  to  love  a  woman  for  sing- 
ing, nor  so  old  to  dote  on  her  for  any  thing:  I 
have  years  on  my  back  forty  eight.  40 

Lear.  Follow  me;  thou  shalt  serve  me:  if  I  Hke  thee 
no  worse  after  dinner,  I  will  not  part  from  thee 
yet.  Dinner,  ho,  dinner!  Where  's  my  knave? 
my  fool?     Go  you,  and  call  my  fool  hither. 

\_Exit  an  Attendant. 

Enter  Oswald. 

You,  you,  sirrah,  where  's  my  daughter? 

Osw.  So  please  you, —  [Exit. 

Lear.  What  says  the  fellow  there?  Call  the  clot- 
poll  back.  [Exit  a  Knight. \  Where  's  my  fool, 
ho?     I  think  the  world  's  asleep. 

Re-enter  Knight. 

How  now!  where  's  that  mongrel?  50 

Knight.  He  says,  my  lord,  your  daughter  is  not  well. 
Lear.  Why  came  not  the  slave  back  to  me  when  I 

called  him? 

45 


Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Knight.  Sir,  he  answered  me  in  the  roundest  man- 
ner, he  would  not. 

Lear.  He  would  not! 

Knight.  My  lord,  I  know  not  what  the  matter  is; 
but,  to  my  judgement,  your  highness  is  not  en- 
tertained with  that  ceremonious  affection  as  you 
were  wont;  there  's  a  great  abatement  of  kind-  60 
ness  appears  as  w^ell  in  the  general  dependants 
as  in  the  duke  himself  also  and  your  daughter. 

Lear.  Ha!  sayst  thou  so? 

Knight.  I  beseech  you,  pardon  me,  my  lord,  if  I  be 
mistaken;  for  my  duty  cannot  be  silent  when  I 
think  your  highness  wronged. 

Lear.  Thou  but  rememberest  me  of  mine  own  con- 
ception: I  have  perceived  a  most  faint  neglect 
of  late;  which  I  have  rather  blamed  as  mine 
own  jealous  curiosity  than  as  a  very  pretence  70 
and  purpose  of  unkindness:  I  will  look  further 
into  't.  But  where  's  my  fool?  I  have  not  seen 
him  this  two  days. 

Knight.  Since  my  young  lady's  going  into  France, 
sir,  the  fool  hath  much  pined  away. 

Lear.  No  more  of  that;  I  have  noted  it  well.  Go 
you,  and  tell  my  daughter  I  would  speak  with 
her.  [Exit  an  Attendant.]  Go  you,  call  hither 
my  fool.  [Exit  an  Attendant. 

Re-enter  Oszvald. 

0,  you  sir,  you,  come  you  hither,  sir:   who  am     80 

1,  sir? 

Osw.  My  lady's  father. 

Lear.  My  lady's  father!  my  lord's  knave:  you 
whoreson  dog!   you  slave!  you  cur! 

46 


KING  LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

Osw.  I  am  none  of  these,  my  lord;  I  beseech  your 
pardon. 

Lear.  Do  you  bandy  looks  with  me,  you  rascal? 

[Striking  him. 

Osw.  I  '11  not  be  struck,  my  lord. 

Kent.  Nor  tripped  neither,  you  base  foot-ball  player. 

[  Tripping  tip  his  heels. 

Lear.  I  thank  thee,  fellow;    thou  servest  me,  and     90 
I  '11  love  thee. 

Kent.  Come,  sir,  arise,  away!  I  11  teach  you  differ- 
ences: away,  away!  If  you  will  measure  your 
lubber's  length  again,  tarry:  but  away!  go  to; 
have  you  wisdom?  so.  {Pushes  Oswald  out. 

Lear.  Now,    my    friendly    knave,    I    thank    thee: 

there  's  earnest  of  thy  service.    [Givifig  Kent  money. 

Enter  Fool. 

Fool.  Let  me  hire  him  too :   here  's  my  coxcomb. 

[Offering  Kent  his  cap. 

Lear.  How  now,  my  pretty  knave!   how  dost  thou? 

Fool.  Sirrah,  you  were  best  take  my  coxcomb.  100 

Kent.  Why,  fool? 

Fool.  Why,  for  taking  one's  part  that 's  out  of  fa- 
vour: nay,  an  thou  canst  not  smile  as  the  wind 
sits,  thou  'It  catch  cold  shortly:  there,  take  my 
coxcomb:  why,  this  fellow  hath  banished  two 
on  's  daughters,  and  done  the  third  a  blessing 
against  his  will;  if  thou  follow  him,  thou  must 
needs  wear  my  coxcomb.  How  now,  nuncle! 
Would  I  had  two  coxcombs  and  two  daughters! 

Lear.  Why,  my  boy?  no 

Fool.  If  I  gave  them  all  my  living,  I  'Id  keep  my  cox- 

47 


Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

combs  myself.     There's  mine;   beg  another  of 

thy  daughters. 
Lear.  Take  heed,  sirrah;  the  whip. 
Pool.  Truth's  a  dog  must  to  kennel;    he  must  be 

whipped  out,  when  Lady  the  brach  may  stand 

by  the  fire  and  stink. 
Lear.  A  pestilent  gall  to  me! 
Fool.  Sirrah,  I  '11  teach  thee  a  speech. 
Lear.  Do.  120 

Fool.  Mark  it,  nuncle : 

Have  more  than  thou  showest, 

Speak  less  than  thou  knowest, 

Lend  less  than  thou  owest, 

Ride  more  than  thou  goest, 

Learn  more  than  thou  trowest, 

Set  less  than  thou  throwest; 

Leave  thy  drink  and  thy  whore, 

And  keep  in-a-door. 

And  thou  shalt  have  more  130 

Than  two  tens  to  a  score. 

Kent.  This  is  nothing,  fool. 

Fool.  Then  'tis  like  the  breath  of  an  unfee'd  lawyer, 
you  gave  me  nothing  for  't.  Can  you  make  no 
use  of  nothing,  nuncle? 

Lear.  Why,  no,  boy;  nothing  can  be  made  out  of 
nothing. 

Fool.  [To  Kent]  Prithee,  tell  him,  so  much  the  rent 
of  his  land  comes  to:  he  will  not  believe  a  fool. 

Lear.  A  bitter  fool!  140 

"Fool.  Dost  thou  know  the  difference,  my  boy,  be- 
tween a  bitter  fool  and  a  sweet  fool? 

Lear.  No,  lad;  teach  me. 

48 


KING   LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

Fool.  That  lord  that  counsell'd  thee 

To  give  away  thy  land, 
Come  place  him  here  by  me; 

Do  thou  for  him  stand: 
The  sweet  and  bitter  fool 

Will  presently  appear; 
The  one  in  motley  here,  150 

The  other  found  out  there. 

Lear.  Dost  thou  call  me  fool,  boy? 

Fool.  All  thy  other  titles  thou  hast  given  away;  that 
thou  wast  born  with. 

Kent.  This  is  not  altogether  fool,  my  lord. 

Fool.  No,  faith,  lords  and  great  men  will  not  let  me; 
if  I  had  a  monopoly  out,  they  would  have  part 
on  't:  and  ladies  too,  they  will  not  let  me  have 
all  the  fool  to  myself ;  they  '11  be  snatching. 
Give  me  an  tgg,  nuncle,  and  I  '11  give  thee  two 
crowns. 

Lear.  What  two  crowns  shall  they  be? 

Fool.  Why,  after  I  have  cut  the  ^gg  in  the  middle 
and  eat  up  the  meat,  the  two  crowns  of  the  Qgg. 
When  thou  clovest  thy  crown  i'  the  middle  and 
gavest  away  both  parts,  thou  borest  thine  ass  on 
thy  back  o'er  the  dirt:  thou  hadst  little  wit  in 
thy  bald  crown  when  thou  gavest  thy  golden 
one  away.  If  I  speak  like  myself  in  this,  let  him 
be  whipped  that  first  finds  it  so. 

[Singing']   Fools  had  ne'er  less  wit  in  a  year;  170 

For  wise  men  are  grown  foppish. 
And  know  not  how  their  wits  to  wear, 
Their  manners  are  so  apish. 

Lear.  When  were  you  wont  to  be  so  full  of  songs, 
sirrah? 

49 


160 


Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

Fool.  I  have  used  it,  nuncle,  ever  since  thou  madest 
thy  daughters  thy  mother :  for  when  thou  gavest 
them  the  rod  and  .puttest  down  thine  own 
breeches, 

[Singing']  Then  they  for  sudden  joy  did  weep, 

And  I  for  sorrow  sung,  i8o 

That  such  a  king  should  play  bo-peep, 
And  go  the  fools  among. 
Prithee,  nuncle,  keep  a  schoolmaster  that  can 
teach  thy  fool  to  lie:    I  would  fain  learn  to  lie. 

Lear.  An  you  lie,  sirrah,  we  '11  have  you  whipped. 

Fool.  I  marvel  what  kin  thou  and  thy  daughters  are : 
they  '11  have  me  whipped  for  speaking  true, 
thou  'It  have  me  whipped  for  lying,  and  some- 
times I  am  whipped  for  holding  my  peace.  I 
had  rather  be  any  kind  o'  thing  than  a  fool:  and  190 
yet  I  would  not  be  thee,  nuncle;  thou  hast 
pared  thy  wit  o'  both  sides  and  left  nothing  i' 
the  middle.     Here  comes  one  o'  the  parings. 

Enter  Goneril. 

Lear.  How  now,  daughter!  what  makes  that  frontlet 
on?  Methinks  you  are  too  much  of  late  i'  the 
frown. 
Fool.  Thou  wast  a  pretty  fellow  when  thou  hadst  no 
need  to  care  for  her  frowning;  now  thou  art  an 
O  without  a  figure:  I  am  better  than  thou  art 
now;  I  am  a  fool,  thou  art  nothing.  [To  Gon.]  200 
Yes,  forsooth,  I  will  hold  my  tongue;  so  your 
face  bids  me,  though  you  say  nothing. 

Mum,  mum: 

He  that  keeps  nor  crust  nor  crumb, 

Weary  of  all,  shall  want  some. 

50 


KING   LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

[Pointing  to  Lear]   That 's  a  shealed  peascod. 
Gon.  Not  only,  sir,  this  your  all-hcensed  fool, 
But  other  of  your  insolent  retinue 
Do  hourly  carp  and  quarrel,  breaking  forth 
In  rank  and  not  to  be  endured  riots.     Sir,  210 

I  had  thought,  by  making  this  well  known  unto  you, 
To  have  found  a  safe  redress;  but  now  grow  fearful, 
By  what  yourself  too  late  have  spoke  and  done, 
That  you  protect  this  course  and  put  it  on 
By  your  allowance;  which  if  you  should,  the  fault 
Would  not  'scape  censure,  nor  the  redresses  sleep, 
Which,  in  the  tender  of  a  wholesome  weal, 
Might  in  their  working  do  you  that  ofifence 
Which  else  were  shame,  that  then  necessity 
Will  call  discreet  proceeding.  220 

Fool.  For,  you  know,  nuncle. 

The  hedge-sparrow  fed  the  cuckoo  so  long, 
That  it  had  it  head  bit  off  by  it  young. 
So  out  went  the  candle,  and  we  were  left  darkling. 

Lear.  Are  you  our  daughter? 

Gon,  Come,  sir, 

I  would  you  would  make  use  of  that  good  wisdom 
Whereof  I  know  you  are  fraught,  and  put  away 
These  dispositions  that  of  late  transform  you 
From  what  you  rightly  are.  230 

Fool.  May  not  an  ass  know  when  the  cart  draws  the 
horse?     Whoop,  Jug!     I  love  thee. 

Lear.  Doth  any  here  know  me?     This  is  not  Lear: 

Doth  Lear  walk  thus?   speak  thus?   where  are  his 

eyes? 
Either  his  notion  weakens,  his  discernings 
Are  lethargied — Ha !   waking  ?  'tis  not  so. 
Who  is  it  that  can  tell  me  who  I  am? 

51 


Act  I.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

Fool.  Lear's  shadow. 

Lear.  I  would  learn  that;   for,  by  the  marks  of  sov- 
ereignty, knowledge  and  reason,  I  should  be  240 
false  persuaded  I  had  daughters. 

Fool.  Which  they  will  make  an  obedient  father. 

Lear.  Your  name,  fair  gentlewoman? 

Gon.  This  admiration,  sir,  is  much  o'  the  savour 
Of  other  your  new  pranks.     I  do  beseech  you 
To  understand  my  purposes  aright: 
As  you  are  old  and  reverend,  you  should  be  wise. 
Here  do  you  keep  a  hundred  knights  and  squires; 
Men  so  disorder'd,  so  debosh'd  and  bold. 
That  this  our  court,  infected  with  their  manners,  250 
Shows  like  a  riotous  inn;   epicurism  and  lust 
Make  it  more  like  a  tavern  or  a  brothel 
Than  a  graced  palace.     The  shame  itself  doth  speak 
For  instant  remedy:   be  then  desired 
By  her  that  else  will  take  the  thing  she  begs 
A  little  to  disquantity  your  train, 
And  the  remainder  that  shall  still  depend, 
To  be  such  men  as  may  besort  your  age, 
Which  know  themselves  and  you. 

Lear.  Darkness  and  devils! 

Saddle  my  horses;   call  my  train  together.  260 

Degenerate  bastard!   I  '11  not  trouble  thee: 
Yet  have  I  left  a  daughter. 

Gon.  You  strike  my  people,  and  your  disorder'd  rabble 
Make  servants  of  their  betters. 

Enter  Albany. 

Lear.  Woe,  that  too  late  repents, — [To  Alb.]  O,  sir,  are 
you  come? 

52 


KING  LEAR  .  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

Is  it  your  will?     Speak,  sir.     Prepare  my  horses. 
Ingratitude,  thou  marble-hearted  fiend, 
More  hideous  when  thou  show'st  thee  in  a  child 
Than  the  sea-monster! 

Alb.  Pray,  sir,  be  patient. 

Lcaj'.   [To  Gon.]   Detested  kite!  thou  liest.  270 

My  train  are  men  of  choice  and  rarest  parts, 
That  all  particulars  of  duty  know. 
And  in  the  most  exact  regard  support 
The  worships  of  their  name.     O  most  small  fault, 
How  ugly  didst  thou  in  Cordelia  show! 
That,  like  an  engine,  wrench'd  my  frame  of  nature 
From  the  fix'd  place,  drew  from  my  heart  all  love 
And  added  to  the  gall.     O  Lear,  Lear,  Lear! 
Beat  at  this  gate,  that  let  thy  folly  in 

[Striking  his  head. 

And  thy  dear  judgement  out!     Go,  go,  my  people. 
Alb.  My  lord,  I  am  guiltless,  as  I  am  ignorant  281 

Of  what  hath  moved  you. 
Lear.  It  may  be  so,  my  lord. 

Hear,  nature,  hear;  dear  goddess,  hear! 

Suspend  thy  purpose,  if  thou  didst  intend 

To  make  this  creature  fruitful: 

Into  her  womb  convey  sterility: 

Dry  up  in  her  the  organs  of  increase, 

And  from  her  derogate  body  never  spring 

A  babe  to  honour  her!  -  If  she  must  teem. 

Create  her  child  of  spleen,  that  it  may  live  290 

And  be  a  thwart  disnatured  torment  to  her. 

Let  it  stamp  wrinkles  in  her  brow  of  youth; 

With  cadent  tears  fret  channels  in  her  cheeks ; 

Turn  all  her  mother's  pains  and  benefits 

53 


Actl.  Sc.  IV.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

To  laughter  and  contempt;   that  she  may  feel 

How  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  it  is 

To  have  a  thankless  child!     Away,  away!  [Exit. 

Alb.  Now,  gods  that  we  adore,  whereof  comes  this? 

Gon.  Never  afflict  yourself  to  know  the  cause, 

But  let  his  disposition  have  that  scope  300 

That  dotage  gives  it. 

Re-enter  Lear. 

Lear.  What,  fifty  of  my  followers  at  a  clap! 
Within  a  fortnight! 

Alb.  What 's  the  matter,  sir? 

Lear.  I'll  tell  thee,    [To  Gon.']   Life  and  Death!    I  am 
ashamed 
That  thou  hast  power  to  shake  my  manhood  thus ; 
That  these  hot  tears,  which  break  from  me  perforce, 
Should  make  thee  worth  them.     Blasts   and  fogs 

upon  thee! 
The  untented  woundings  of  a  father's  curse 
Pierce  every  sense  about  thee!     Old  fond  eyes, 
Beweep  this  cause  again,  I  '11  pluck  ye  out  310 

And  cast  you  with  the  waters  that  you  lose 
To  temper  clay.     Yea,  is  it  come  to  this? 
Let  it  be  so :  yet  have  I  left  a  daughter, 
Who,  I  am  sure,  is  kind  and  comfortable: 
When  she  shall  hear  this  of  thee,  with  her  nails 
She  '11  flay  thy  wolvish  visage.     Thou  shalt  find 
That  I  '11  resume  the  shape  which  thou  dost  think 
I  have  cast  off  for  ever:  thou  shalt,  I  warrant  thee. 
[Exeunt  Lear,  Kent,  and  Attendants. 

Gon.  Do  you  mark  that,  my  lord? 

Alb.  I  cannot  be  so  partial,  Goneril,  320 

To  the  great  love  I  bear  you, — 

54 


KING  LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  iv. 

Gon.  Pray  you,  content.     What,  Oswald,  ho! 

[To  the  Fool]   You,  sir,  more  knave  than  fool,  after 
your  master. 
Fool.  Nuncle   Lear,   nuncle   Lear,   tarry;   take   the   fool 
with  thee. 

A  fox,  when  one  has  caught  her, 
And  such  a  daughter, 
Should  sure  to  the  slaughter, 
If  my  cap  would  buy  a  halter: 
So  the  fool  follows  after.  [Exit.  330 

Goi.  This    man    hath    had    good    counsel :     a    hundred" 
knights ! 
'Tis  politic  and  safe  to  let  him  keep 
At  point  a  hundred  knights:    yes,   that  on  every 

dream, 
Each  buzz,  each  fancy,  each  complaint,  dislike, 
He  may  enguard  his  dotage  with  their  powers 
And  hold  our  lives  in  mercy.     Oswald,  I  say! 
Alb.  Well,  you  may  fear  too  far. 

Gon.  Safer  than  trust  too  far: 

Let  me  still  take  away  the  harms  I  fear, 
Not  fear  still  to  be  taken:  I  know  his  heart. 
What  he  hath  utter'd  I  have  writ  my  sister:  340 

If  she  sustain  him  and  his  hundred  knights, 
When  I  have  show'd  the  unfitness, — 

Re-enter  Oswald. 

How  now,  Oswald! 
What,  have  you  writ  that  letter  to  my  sister? 

Oszv.  Yes,  madam. 

Gon.  Take  you  some  company,  and  away  to  horse: 
Inform  her  full  of  my  particular  fear. 
And  thereto  add  such  reasons  of  your  own 
As  may  compact  it  more.     Get  you  gone; 

55 


Actl.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

And  hasten  your  return.     [Exit  Oszvald.]     No,  no, 

my  lord, 
This  milky  gentleness  and  course  of  yours  350 

Though  I  condemn  not,  yet,  under  pardon, 
You  are  much  more  attask'd  for  want  of  wisdom 
Than  praised  for  harmful  mildness. 

Alb.  How  far  your  eyes  may  pierce  I  cannot  tell: 
Striving  to  better,  oft  we  mar  what 's  well. 

Gon.  Nay,  then — 

Alb.  Well,  well;  the  event.  [Exeunt 

Scene  V. 

Court  before  the  same. 
Enter  Lear,  Kent,  and  Fool. 

Lear.  Go  you  before  to  Gloucester  with  these 
letters.  Acquaint  my  daughter  no  further  with 
any  thing  you  know  that  comes  from  her 
demand  out  of  the  letter.  If  your  diUgence  be 
not  speedy,  I  shall  be  there  afore  you. 

Kent.  I  will  not  sleep,  my  lord,  till  I  have  delivered 

your  letter.  [Exit. 

-7         Fool.  If  a  man's  brains  were  in  's  heels,  were  't  not 
in  danger  of  kibes  ?^ 

Lear.  Ay,  boy.  10 

Fool.  Then,  I  prithee,  be  merry;  thy  wit  shall 
ne'er  go  slip-shod. 

Lear.  Ha,  ha,  ha! 

Fool.  Shalt  see  thy  other  daughter  will  use  thee 
kindly;  for  though  she  's  as  like  this  as  a  crab  's 
like  an  apple,  yet  I  can  tell  what  I  can  tell. 

Lear.  Why,  what  canst  thou  tell,  my  boy? 

s6 


KING  LEAR  Act  I.  Sc.  v. 

Fool.  She  will  taste  as  like  this  as  a  crab  does  to  a 

crab.     Thou  canst  tell  why  one's  nose  stands  i' 

the  middle  on  's  face?  20 

Lear.  No. 
Fool  Why,  to  keep  one's  eyes  of  either  side  's  nose, 

that  what  a  man  cannot  smell  out  he  may  spy 

into. 
Lear.  I  did  her  wrong — 

Fool.  Canst  tell"  how  an  oyster  makes  his  shell? 
Lear.  No. 
Fool.  Nor  I  neither;   but  I  can  tell  why  a  snail  has 

a  house. 
Lear.  Why? 
Fool.  Why,  to  put 's  head  in;   not  to  give  it  away  to     30 

his  daughters,  and  leave  his  horns  without  a 

case. 
Lear.  I  will  forget  my  nature. — So  kind  a  father! 

— Be  my  horses  ready? 
Fool.  Thy  asses  are  gone  about  'em.     The   reason 

why  the  seven  stars  are  no  more  than  seven  is  a  • 

pretty  reason. 
Lear.  Because. they  are  not  eight? 
Fool.  Yes,  indeed:   thou  wouldst  make  a  good  fool. 
Lear.  To  take 't  again  perforce!     Monster  ingratitude! 
Fool.  If  thou  wert  my  fool,  nuncle,  I  'Id  have  thee     40 

beaten  for  being  old  before  thy  time. 
Lear.  How  's  that? 
Fool.  Thou   shouldst   not   have  been   old   till  thou 

hadst  been  wise. 
Lear.  O,  let  me  not  be  mad,  not  mad,  sweet  heaven! 

Keep  me  in  temper:   I  would  not  be  mad! 


Enter  Gentleman. 
How  now!    are  the  horses  ready? 
57 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF         | 

Gent.  Ready,  my  lord. 

Lear.  Come,  boy.  49 

Fool.  She  that 's  a  maid  now  and  laughs  at  my  departure 

Shall  not  be  a  maid  long,  unless  things  be   cut 

shorter.  [Exeunt. 

ACT  SECOND. 
Scene  I. 

The  Earl  of  Gloucester's  castle. 
Enter  Edmund  and  Cur  an,  meeting. 

Edm.  Save  thee,  Curan. 

Cur.  And  you,  sir.  I  have  been  with  your  father, 
and  given  him  notice  that  the  Duke  of  Corn- 
wall and  Regan  his  duchess  will  be  here  with 
him  this  night. 

Edm.  How  comes  that? 

Cur.  Nay,  I  know  not.  You  have  heard  of  the  news 
abroad,  I  mean  the  whispered  ones,  for  they  are 
yet  but  ear-kissing  arguments? 

Edm.  Not  I:   pray  you,  what  are  they?  10 

Cur.  Have  you  heard  of  no  likely  wars  toward, 
'twixt  the  Dukes  of  Cornwall  and  Albany? 

Edm.  Not  a  word. 

Cur.  You  may  do  then  in  time.     Fare  you  well,  sir. 

[Exit. 

Edm.  The  Duke  be  here  to-night  ?     The  better !   best 
This  weaves  itself  perforce  into  my  business. 
My  father  hath  set  guard  to  take  my  brother; 
And  I  have  one  thing,  of  a  queasy  question, 
Which  I  must  act:  briefness  and  fortune,  work!     20 
Brother,  a  word;  descend:  brother,  I  say! 

58 


KING  LEAR  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

Enter  Edgar. 

My  father  watches:   O  sir,  fly  this  place; 

Intelligence  is  given  where  you  are  hid; 

You  have  now  the  good  advantage  of  the  night: 

Have  you  not  spoken  'gainst  the  Duke  of  Cornwall? 

He  's  coming  hither,  now,  i'  the  night,  i'  the  haste, 

And  Regan  with  him :  have  you  nothing  said 

Upon  his  party  'gainst  the  Duke  of  Albany? 

Advise  yourself. 
Edg.  I  am  sure  on  't,  not  a  word. 

Edm.  I  hear  my  father  coming:   pardon  me:  30 

In  cunning  I  must  draw  my  sword  upon  you: 

Draw:   seem  to  defend  yourself:   now  quit  you  well. 

Yield:   come  before  my  father.     Light,  ho,  here! 

Fly,  brother.     Torches,  torches!     So  farewell. 

[Exit  Edgar. 

Some  blood  drawn  on  me  would  beget  opinion 

[Wounds  his  arm. 

Of  my  more  fierce  endeavour:  I  have  seen  drunkards 

Do  more  than  this  in  sport.     Father,  father! 

Stop,  stop!     No  help? 

Enter  Gloucester,  and  Servants  with  torches. 

Glou.  Now,  Edmund,  where  's  the  villain? 

Edm.  Here  stood  he  in  the  dark,  his  sharp  sword 

out,  40 

Mumbling  of  wicked  charms,  conjuring  the  moon 

To  stand  's  auspicious  mistress. 
Glou.  But  where  is  he? 

Edm.  Look,  sir,  I  bleed. 

Glou.  Where  is  the  villain,  Edmund? 

Edm.  Fled  this  way,  sir.     When  by  no  means  he  could — 

59 


h 


Actll.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Glou.  Pursue  him,  ho! — Go  after. 

[Exeunt  some  Servants. 
'  By  no  means  '  what?  % 

Edm.  Persuade  me  to  the  murder  of  your  lordship; 
But  that  I  told  him  the  revenging  gods 
'Gainst  parricides  did  all  their  thunders  bend, 
Spoke  with  how  manifold  and  strong  a  bond 
The  child  was  bound  to  the  father ;   sir,  in  fine,      50 
Seeing  how  loathly  opposite  I  stood 
To  his  unnatural  purpose,  in  fell  motion 
With  his  prepared  sword  he  charges  home 
My  unprovided  body,  lanced  mine  arm: 
But  when  he  saw  my  best  alarum'd  spirits 
Bold  in  the  quarrel's  right,  roused  to  the  encounter, 
Or  whether  gasted  by  the  noise  I  made. 
Full  suddenly  he  fled. 

Glou.  Let  him  fly  far: 

Not  in  this  land  shall  he  remain  uncaught; 

And  found — dispatch.     The  noble  duke  my  master, 

My  worthy  arch  and  patron,  comes  to-night:        61 

By  his  authority  I  will  proclaim  it, 

That  he  which  finds  him  shall  deserve  our  thanks. 

Bringing  the  murderous  caitiff  to  the  stake; 

He  that  conceals  him,  death. 

Edm.  When  I  dissuaded  him  from  his  intent 

And  found  him  pight  to  do  it,  with  curst  speech 
,         I  threaten'd  to  discover  him:  he  replied, 
\       *  Thou  unpossessing  bastard!   dost  thou  think. 

If  I  would  stand  against  thee,  could  the  reposure    70 
Of  any  trust,  virtue,  or  worth,  in  thee 
Make  thy  words  faith'd?    No:  what  I  should  deny — 
As  this  I  would;  ay,  though  thou  didst  produce 
My  very  character — I  'Id  turn  it  all 

60 


U 


KING   LEAR  Act  II.  Sc.  i. 

To  thy  suggestion,  plot,  and  damned  practice: 
And  thou  must  make  a  dullard  of  the  world, 
If  they  not  thought  the  profits  of  my  death 
Were  very  pregnant  and  potential  spurs 
To  make  thee  seek  it.' 

GIou.  Strong  and  fasten'd  villain! 

Would  he  deny  his  letter?     I  never  got  him.  80 

[Tucket  within. 
Hark,  the  duke's  trumpets!     I  know  not  why  he 

comes. 
All  ports  I  '11  bar;   the  villain  shall  not  'scape; 
The  duke  must  grant  me  that:  besides,  his  picture 
I  will  send  far  and  near,  that  all  the  kingdom 
May  have  due  note  of  him;  and  of  my  land, 
Loyal  and  natural  boy,  I  '11  work  the  means 
To  make  thee  capable. 

Enter  Cornwall,  Regan,  and  Attendants. 

Corn.  How  now,  my  noble  friend !  since  I  came  hither, 
Which  I  can  call  but  now,  I  have  heard  strange 
news. 

Reg.  If  it  be  true,  all  vengeance  comes  too  short  90 

Which   can   pursue   the   offender.     How   dost,   my 
lord? 

Gloii.  O,  madam,  my  old  heart  is  crack'd,  is  crack'd! 

Reg.  What,  did  my  father's  godson  seek  your  Hfe? 
He  whom  my  father  named?  your  Edgar? 

Clou.  O,  lady,  lady,  shame  would  have  it  hid! 

Reg.  Was  he  not  companion  with  the  riotous  knights 
That  tend  upon  my  father? 

Clou.  I  know  not,  madam:   'tis  too  bad,  too  bad. 

Edm.  Yes,  madam,  he  was  of  that  consort. 

Reg.  No  marvel  then,  though  he  were  ill  affected:       100 
'Tis  they  have  put  him  on  the  old  man's  death. 
To  have  the  waste  and  spoil  of  his  revenues. 
61 


Act  II.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

I  have  this  present  evening  from  my  sister 
Been  well  inform'd  of  them,  and  with  such  cautions 
That  if  they  come  to  sojourn  at  my  house, 
I  '11  not  be  there. 
Corn.  Nor  I,  assure  thee,  Regan. 

Edmund,  I  hear  that  you  have  shown  your  father 
A  child-like  office. 

Edm.  'Twas  my  duty,  sir. 

Glou.  He  did  bewray  his  practice,  and  received 

This  hurt  you  see,  striving  to  apprehend  him.       no 

Corn.  Is  he  pursued? 

Glou.  Ay,  my  good  lord. 

Corn.  If  he  be  taken,  he  shall  never  more 

Be  fear'd  of  doing  harm:  make  your  own  purpose, 
How  in  my  strength  you  please.     For  you,  Edmund, 
Whose  virtue  and  obedience  doth  this  instant 
So  much  commend  itself,  you  shall  be  ours: 
Natures  of  such  deep  trust  we  shall  much  need: 
You  we  first  seize  on. 

Edm.  I  shall  serve  you,  sir, 

Truly,  however  else. 

Glou.  For  him  I  thank  your  grace. 

Corn.  You  know  not  why  we  came  to  visit  you, —        120 
Reg.  Thus  out  of  season,  threading  dark-eyed  night: 
Occasions,  noble  Gloucester,  of  some  poise. 
Wherein  we  must  have  use  of  your  advice: 
Our  father  he  hath  writ,  so  hath  our  sister, 
Of  differences,  which  I  least  thought  it  fit 
To  answer  from  our  home;   the  several  messengers 
From  hence  attend  dispatch.     Our  good  old  friend. 
Lay  comforts  to  your  bosom,  and  bestow 
Your  needful  counsel  to  our  business, 

62 


KING   LEAR  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

Which  craves  the  instant  use. 
Glou.  I  serve  you,  madam:    130 

Your  graces  are  right  welcome.     [Flourish.     Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

Before  Gloucester  s  castle. 
Enter  Kent  and  Oswald,  severally. 

Osw.  Good  dawning  to  thee,  friend:  art  of  this  house? 

Kent.  Ay. 

Osw.  Where  may  we  set  our  horses? 

Kent,  r  the  mire. 

Osw.  Prithee,  if  thou  lovest  me,  tell  me. 

Kent.  I  love  thee  not. 

Osw.  Why  then  I  care  not  for  thee. 

Kent.  If  I  had  thee  in  Lipsbury  pinfold,  I  would 
make  thee  care  for  me. 

Osw.  Why  dost  thou  use  me  thus?     I  know  thee 

not.  10 

Kent.  Fellow,  I  know  thee. 

Osw.  What  dost  thou  know  me  for? 

Kent.  A  knave;  a  rascal;  an  eater  of  broken  meats; 
a  base,  proud,  shallow,  beggarly,  three-suited, 
hundred-pound,  filthy,  worsted-stocking  knave; 
a  lily-livered,  action-taking  knave;  a  whoreson, 
glass-gazing,  superserviceable,  finical  rogue; 
one-trunk-inheriting  slave;  one  that  wouldst 
be  a  bawd  in  way  of  good  service,  and  art  noth- 
ing but  the  composition  of  a  knave,  beggar,  20 
coward,  pandar,  and  the  son  and  heir  of  a  mon- 
grel bitch:  one  whom  I  will  beat  into  clamor- 
ous whining,  if  thou  deniest  the  least  syllable 
of  thy  addition. 

63 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

Osw.  Why,  what  a  monstrous  fellow  art  thou,  thus 
to  rail  on  one  that  is  neither  known  of  thee  nor 
knows  thee! 

Kent.  What  a  brazen-faced  varlet  art  thou,  to  deny 
thou  knowest  me!  Is  it  two  days  ago  since  I 
tripped  up  thy  heels  and  beat  thee  before  the 
king?  Draw,  you  rogue:  for,  though  it  be  30 
night,  yet  the  moon  shines ;  I  '11  make  a  sop  o' 
the  moonshine  of  you:  draw,  you  whoreson 
cullionly  barber-monger,  draw.     [Drawing  his  sivord. 

Osw.  Away !     I  have  nothing  to  do  with  thee. 

Kent.  Draw,  you  rascal:  you  come  with  letters 
against  the  king,  and  take  vanity  the  puppet's 
part  against  the  royalty  of  her  father:  draw, 
you  rogue,  or  I'll  so  carbonado  your  shanks: 
draw,  you  rascal;   come  your  ways. 

Osw.  Help,  ho!   murder!   help!  40 

Kent.  Strike,  you  slave;    stand,  rogue;    stand,  you 

neat  slave,  strike.  [Beating  him. 

Osw.  Help,  ho!   murder!    murder! 

Enter  Edmund,  zvith  his  rapier  drawn,  Cornwall, 
Regan,  Gloucester,  and  Servants. 

Edm.  How  now!     What 's  the  matter?        [Parting  them. 
Kent.  With  you,  goodman  boy,  an  you  please:  come, 

I  '11  flesh  you;   come  on,  young  master. 
Glou.  Weapons!    arms!     What's  the  matter  here? 
Corn.  Keep  peace,  upon  your  lives; 

He  dies  that  strikes  again.     What  is  the  matter? 
Reg.  The  messengers  from  our  sister  and  the  king.       50 
Corn.  What  is  your  difference?  speak. 
Osw.  1  am  scarce  in  breath,  my  lord. 

64 


KING  LEAR  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

Kent.  No  marvel,  you  have  so  bestirred  your  valour. 

You  cowardly  rascal,  nature  disclaims  in  thee :  a 

tailor  made  thee. 
Corn,  Thou  art  a  strange  fellow  :  a  tailor  make  a  man  ? 
Kent.  Ay,  a  tailor,  sir:    a  stone-cutter  or  a  painter 

could  not  have  made  him  so  ill,  though  he  had 

been  but  two  hours  at  the  trade. 
Corn.  Speak  yet,  how  grew  your  quarrel?  60 

Osw.  This   ancient   ruffian,   sir,   whose   life   I   have 

spared  at  suit  of  his  gray  beard, — 
Kent.  Thou  whoreson  zed !   thou  unnecessary  letter ! 

My  lord,  if  you  will  give  me  leave,  I  will  tread 

this  unbolted  villain  into  mortar,  and  daub  the 

wall  of  a  Jakes  with  him.     Spare  my  gray  beard, 

you  wagtail? 
Corn.  Peace,  sirrah! 

You  beastly  knave,  know  you  no  reverence. 
Kent.  Yes,  sir,  but  anger  hath  a  privilege.  70 

Corn.  Why  art  thou  angry? 
Kent.  That  such  a  slave  as  this  should  wear  a  sword, 

Who  wears  no  honesty.     Such  smiling  rogues  as 
these, 

Like  rats,  oft  bite  the  holy  cords  a-twain 

Which  are  too  intrinse  to  unloose;    smooth  every 
passion 

That  in  the  natures  of  their  lords  rebel; 

Bring  oil  to  fire,  snow  to  their  colder  moods; 

Renege,  affirm,  and  turn  their  halcyon  beaks 

With  every  gale  and  vary  of  their  masters, 

Knowing  nought,  like  dogs,  but  following.  80 

A  plague  upon  your  epileptic  visage! 

Smile  you  my  speeches,  as  I  were  a  fool? 

Goose,  if  I  had  you  upon  Sarum  plain, 

T  'Id  drive  ye  cackling  home  to  Camelot. 

65 


Actll.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Corn.  What,  art  thou  mad,  old  fellow? 

Glou.  How  fell  you  out?  say  that. 

Kent.  No  contraries  hold  more  antipathy 

Than  I  and  such  a  knave. 
Corn.  Why  dost  thou  call  him  knave?     What  is  his  fault? 
Kent.  His  countenance  likes  me  not.  90 

Corn.  No  more  perchance  does  mine,  nor  his,  nor  hers. 
Kent.  Sir,  'tis  my  occupation  to  be  plain: 

I  have  seen  better  faces  in  my  time 

Than  stands  on  any  shoulder  that  I  see 

Before  me  at  this  instant. 

Corn.  This  is  some  fellow, 

Who,  having  been  praised  for  bluntness,  doth  affect 
A  saucy  roughness,  and  constrains  the  garb 
Quite  from  his  nature :   he  cannot  flatter,  he, — 
An  honest  mind  and  plain, — he  must  speak  truth! 
An  they  will  take  it,  so;  if  not,  he  's  plain.  100 

These  kind  of  knaves  I  know,  which  in  this  plainness 
Harbour  more  craft  and  more  corrupter  ends 
Than  twenty  silly  ducking  observants 
That  stretch  their  duties  nicely. 

Kent.  Sir,  in  good  faith,  in  sincere  verity, 

Under  the  allowance  of  your  great  aspect, 
Whose  influence,  like  the  wreath  of  radiant  fire 
On  flickering  Phoebus'  front, — 

Corn,  What  mean'st  by  this? 

Kent.  To  go  out  of  my  dialect,  which  you  discom- 
mend so  much.  I  know,  sir,  I  am  no  flatterer:  no 
he  that  beguiled  you  in  a  plain  accent  was  a 
plain  knave;  which,  for  my  part,  I  will  not  be, 
though  I  should  win  your  displeasure  to  entreat 
me  to  't. 

66 


KING  LEAR  Act  II.  Sc.  ii. 

Corn.  What  was  the  offence  you  gave  him? 

Osw.  I  never  give  him  any: 

It  pleased  the  king  his  master  very  late 
To  strike  at  me,  upon  his  misconstruction; 
When  he,  conjunct,  and  flattering  his  displeasure, 
Tripp'd  me  behind;  being  down,  insulted,  rail'd,  120 
And  put  upon  him  such  a  deal  of  man, 
That  worthied  him,  got  praises  of  the  king 
For  him  attempting  who  was  self-subdued, 
And  in  the  fleshment  o^  this  dread  exploit  ' 
Drew  on  me  here  again. 

Kent.  None  of  these  rogues  and  cowards 

But  Ajax  is  their  fool. 

Cam.  Fetch  forth  the  stocks ! 

You  stubborn  ancient  knave,  you  reverend  braggart, 
We  '11  teach  you — 

Kent.  Sir,  I  am  too  old  to  learn: 

Call  not  your  stocks  for  me:   I  serve  the  king, 
On  whose  employment  I  was  sent  to  you:  130 

You  shall  do  small  respect,  show  too  bold  malice 
Against  the  grace  and  person  of  my  master, 
Stocking  his  messenger. 

Corn.  Fetch  forth  the  stocks!     As  I  have  life  and  hon- 
our, 
There  shall  he  sit  till  noon. 

Reg.  Till  noon!   till  night,  my  lord,  and  all  night  too. 

Kent.  Why,  madam,  if  I  were  your  father's  dog, 
You  should  not  use  me  so. 

Reg.  Sir,  being  his  knave,  I  will. 

Corn.  This  is  a  fellow  of  the  self-same  colour  139 

Our  sister  speaks  of.     Come,  bring  away  the  stocks! 

[Stocks  brought  out. 

Clou.  Let  me  beseech  your  grace  not  to  do  so: 

67 


Act  II.  Sc.  ii.  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

His  fault  is  much,  and  the  good  king  his  master 
Will  check  him  for  't :  your  purposed  low  correction 
Is  such  as  basest  and  contemned'st  wretches 
For  pilferings  and  most  common  trespasses 
Are  punish'd  with:  the  king  must  take  it  ill, 
That  he,  so  slightly  valued  in  his  rhessenger, 
Should  have  him  thus  restrain'd. 

Cam.  I  '11  answer  that. 

Reg.  My  sister  may  receive  it  much  more  worse, 

To  have  her  gentleman  abused,  assaulted,  150 

For  following  her  affairs.     Put  in  his  legs. 

[Ke7it  is  put  in  the  stocks. 
Come,  my  good  lord,  away. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Gloucester  and  Kent. 

Glou.  I  am  sorry  for  thee,  friend;  'tis  the  duke's  pleasure. 
Whose  disposition,  all  the  world  well  knows. 
Will  not  be  rubb'd  nor  stopp'd:   I  '11  entreat  for  thee. 

Kent.  Pray,  do  not,  sir:    I  have  watch'd  and  travell'd 
hard; 
Some  time  I  shall  sleep  out,  the  rest  I  '11  whistle. 
A  good  man's  fortune  may  grow  out  at  heels : 
Give  you  good  morrow! 

Clou.  The  duke's  to  blame  in  this;  'twill  be  ill  taken.  160 

{Exit. 

Kent.  Good  king,  that  must  approve  the  common  saw, 
Thou  out  of  heaven's  benediction  comest 
To  the  warm  sun! 

Approach,  thou  beacon  to  this  under  globe. 
That  by  thy  comfortable  beams  I  may 
Peruse  this  letter!     Nothing  almost  sees  miracles 
But  misery:  I  know  'tis  from  Cordelia, 
Who  hath  most  fortunately  been  inform'd 
Of  my  obscured  course;  and  shall  find  time 

68 


KING  LEAR  Act  II.  Sc.  iii. 

From  this  enormous  state,  seeking  to  give  170 

Losses  their  remedies.     All  weary  and  o'er-watch'd, 
Take  vantage,  heavy  eyes,  not  to  behold 
This  shameful  lodging. 

Fortune,  good  night:    smile  once  more;    turn  thy 
wheel!  i^^^'P'- 

Scene  III. 

A  wood. 
Enter  Edgar. 

Edg.  I  heard  myself  proclaim'd; 

And  by  the  happy  hollow  of  a  tree 
Escaped  the  hunt.     No  port  is  free;   no  place. 
That  guard  and  most  unusual  vigilance 
Does  not  attend  my  taking.     Whiles  I  may  'scape 
I  will  preserve  myself:   and  am  bethought 
To  take  the  basest  and  most  poorest  shape 
That  every  penury  in  contempt  of  man 
Brought  near  to  beast:  my  face  I  '11  grime  with  filth, 
Blanket  my  loins,  elf  all  my  hair  in  knots,  10 

And  with  presented  nakedness  out-face 
The  winds  and  persecutions  of  the  sky. 
The  country  gives  me  proof  and  precedent 
Of  Bedlam  beggars,  who  with  roaring  voices 
Strike  in  their  numb'd  and  mortified  bare  arms 
Pins,  wooden  pricks,  nails,  sprigs  of  rosemary; 
And  with  this  horrible  object,  from  low  farms, 
Poor  pelting  villages,  sheep-cotes  and  mills,  18 

Sometime  with  lunatic  bans,  sometime  with  prayers 
Enforce  their  charity.     Poor  Turlygod!   poor  Tom! 
That 's  something  yet:  Edgar  I  nothmg  am.     [Exit. 
69 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  IV. 

Before  Gloucester' s  castle.     Kent  in  the  stocks. 
Enter  Lear,  Fool,  and  Gentleman. 

Lear.  Tis  strange  that  they  should  so  depart  from  home, 

And  not  send  back  my  messenger. 
Gent.  As  I  learn'd, 

The  night  before  there  was  no  purpose  in  them 

Of  this  remove. 
Kent.  Hail  to  thee,  noble  master! 

Lear.  Ha! 

Makest  thou  this  shame  thy  pastime? 
Kent.  No,  my  lord. 

Fool.  Ha,  ha!   he  wears  cruel  garters.     Horses  are 

tied  by  the  heads,  dogs  and  bears  by  the  neck, 

monkeys  by  the  loins,  and  men  by  the  legs: 

when  a  man  's  over-lusty  at  legs,  then  he  wears     lo 

wooden  nether-stocks. 
Lear.  What 's  he  that  hath  so  much  thy  place  mistook 

To  set  thee  here? 
Kent.  It  is  both  he  and  she; 

Your  son  and  daughter. 
Lear.  No. 
Kent.  Yes. 
Lear.  No,  I  say. 
Kent.  I  say,  yea. 
Lear.  No,  no,  they  would  not. 

Kent.  Yes,  they  have.  20 

Lear.  By  Jupiter,  I  swear,  no. 
Kent.  By  Juno,  I  swear,  ay, 
Lear.  They  durst  not  do  't ; 

70 


KING   LEAR  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

They  could  not,  would  not  do't;   'tis  worse  than 

murder, 
To  do  upon  respect  such  violent  outrage: 
Resolve  me  with  all  modest  haste  which  way 
Thou  mightst  deserve,  or  they  impose,  this  usage, 
Coming  from  us. 
l(;^j^t^  My  lord,  when  at  their  home 

I  did  commend  your  highness'  letters  to  them. 
Ere  I  was  risen  from  the  place  that  show'd 
My  duty  kneeUng,  came  there  a  reeking  post,      30 
Stew'd  in  his  haste,  half  breathless,  panting  forth 
From  Goneril  his  mistress  salutations ; 
Deliver'd  letters,  spite  of  intermission. 
Which  presently  they  read:  on  whose  contents 
They  summon'd  up  their  meiny,  straight  took  horse; 
Commanded  me  to  follow  and  attend 
The  leisure  of  their  answer;  gave  me  cold  looks: 
And  meeting  here  the  other  messenger,  ^ 
Whose  welcome,  I  perceived,  had  poison  d  mine- 
Being  the  very  fellow  that  of  late  40 
Display'd  so  saucily  against  your  highness- 
Having  more  man  than  wit  about  me,  drew:  ^ 
He  raised  the  house  with  loud  and  coward  cries. 
Your  son  and  daughter  found  this  trespass  worth 
The  shame  which  here  it  suffers. 
Fool  Winter's  not  gone  yet,  if  the  wild  geese  fly 
that  way. 

Fathers  that  wear  rags 

Do  make  their  children  blind; 
But  fathers  that  bear  bags  \  5° 

Shall  see  their  children  kind. 
Fortune,  that  arrant  whore, 
Ne'er  turns  the  key  to  the  poor. 
71 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

But,  for  all  this,  thou  shalt  have  as  many  do- 
lours for  thy  daughter  as  thou  canst  tell  in  a 
.,  year. 
Lear.  O,  how  this  mother  swells  up  toward  my  heart ! 
Hysterica  passio,  down,  thou  climbing  sorrow, 
Thy  element's  below!     Where  is  this  daughter? 
Kent.  With  the  earl,  sir,  here  within. 
Lear.  Follow  me  not ;   stay  here.  [Exit.     60 

Gent.  Made  you  no  more  offence  but  what  you  speak  of? 
Kent.  None. 

How  chance  the  king  comes  with  so  small  a  train? 
Fool.  An  thou  hadst  been  set  i'  the  stocks  for  that 

question,  thou  hadst  well  deserved  it. 
Kent.  Why,  fool? 

Fool.  We  '11  set  thee  to  school  to  an  ant,  to  teach 
thee  there's  no  labouring  i'  the  winter.  All 
that  follow  their  noses  are  led  by  their  eyes  but 
blind  men;  and  there's  not  a  nose  among  70 
twenty  but  can  smell  him  that 's  stinking.  /  Let 
go  thy  hold  when  a  great  wheel  runs  down  a 
hill,  lest  it  break  thy  neck  with  following  it; 
but  the  great  one  that  goes  up  the  hill,  let  him 
draw  thee  after./  When  a  wise  man  gives  thee 
better  counsel,  give  me  mine  again:  I  would 
have  none  but  knaves  follow  it,  since  a  fool 
gives  it. 

That  sir  which  serves  and  seeks  for  gain, 

And  follows  but  for  form,  80 

Will  pack  when  it  begins  to  rain, 

And  leave  thee  in  the  storm. 
But  I  will  tarry;  the  fool  will  stay, 

And  let  the  wise  man  fly: 
The  knave  turns  fool  that  runs  away; 
The  fool  no  knave,  perdy. 

72 


KING   LEAR  Act.  II.  Sc.  iv. 

Kent.  Where  learned  you  this,  fool? 
Fool.  Not  i'  the  stocks,  fool. 

Re-enter  Lear,  with  Gloucester. 

Lear.  Deny  to  speak  with  me?     They  are  sick?  they  are 
weary? 

They  have  travell'd  all  the  night?     Mere  fetches; 

The  images  of  revolt  and  flying  off.  91 

Fetch  me  a  better  answer. 
Glou.  My  dear  lord, 

You  know  the  fiery  quality  of  the  duke; 

How  unremoveable  and  fix'd  he  is 

In  his  own  course. 
Lear.  Vengeance!   plague!   death!   confusion! 

Fiery?  what  quality?   Why,  Gloucester,  Gloucester, 

I  'Id  speak  with  the  Duke  of  Cornwall  and  his  wife. 
Glou.  Well,  my  good  lord,  I  have  inform'd  them  so. 
Lear.  Inform'd  them!  Dost  thou  understand  me,  man? 
Glou.  Ay,  my  good  lord.  loi 

Lear.  The  king  would  speak  with   Cornwall;  the   dear 
father 

Would   with    his    daughter   speak,    commands    her 
service: 

Are  they  inform'd  of  this?     My  breath  and  blood! 

*  Fiery  '?  'the  fiery  duke  '?  Tell  the  hot  duke  that— 

No,  but  not  yet :  may  be  he  is  not  well : 

Infirmity  doth  still  neglect  all  office 

Whereto  our  health  is  bound;  we  are  not  ourselves 

When  nature  being  oppress'd  commands  the  mind 

To  suffer  with  the  body:    I  '11  forbear;  no 

And  am  fall'n  out  with  my  more  headier  will, 

To  take  the  indisposed  and  sickly  fit 

73 


Act  II.  Sc.  iv.  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

For  the  sound  man.     [Looking  on  Kent]     Death  on 

my  state!   wherefore 
Should  he  sit  here?     This  act  persuades  me 
That  this  remotion  of  the  duke  and  her 
Is  practice  only.     Give  me  my  servant  forth. 
Go  tell  the  duke  and  's  wife  I  'Id  speak  with  them, 
Now,  presently:  bid  them  come  forth  and  hear  me. 
Or  at  their  chamber-door  I  '11  beat  the  drum 
Till  it  cry  sleep  to  death.  120 

Glou.  I  would  have  all  well  betwixt  you.  [Exit. 

Lear.  O  me,  my  heart,  my  rising  heart!     But  down! 

Fool.  Cry  to  it,  nuncle,  as  the  cockney  did  to  the 
eels  when  she  put  'em  i'  the  paste  alive;  she 
knapped  'em  o'  the  coxcombs  with  a  stick,  and 
cried  'Down,  wantons,  down!'  'Twas  her 
brother  that,  in  pure  kindness  to  his  horse, 
buttered  his  hay. 

Re-enter  Gloucester,  with  Cornwall,  Regan,  and  Servants. 

Lear.  Good  morrow  to  you  both. 

Cam.  Hail  to  your  grace! 

[Kent  is  set  at  liberty. 

Reg.  I  am  glad  to  see  your  highness.  130 

Lear.  Regan,  I  think  you  are;   I  know  what  reason 
I  have  to  think  so:   If  thou  shouldst  not  be  glad, 
I  would  divorce  me  from  thy  mother's  tomb. 
Sepulchring  an  adultress.  [To  Kent]  O,  are  you  free? 
Some  other  time  for  that.     Beloved  Regan, 
Thy  sister's  naught :   O  Regan,  she  hath  tied 
Sharp-tooth'd  unkindness,  like  a  vulture,  here: 

[Points  to  his  heart. 
I  can  scarce  speak  to  thee;  thou  'It  not  believe 

74 


KING  LEAR  ^  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

With  how  depraved  a  quality— O  Regan! 
Re,.  I  pray  you,  sir,  take  patience:  I  have  hope  140 

.You  less  know  how  to  vahie  her  desert 
Than  she  to  scant  her  duty. 

Lear.  ^^^^  ^"'"^ ''  ^^^^^ 

Re^    I  cannot  think  my  sister  in  the  least 

Would  lail  her  obUgation:   if,  sir,  perchance 
She  have  restraint  the  riots  of  your  followers 
'Tis  on  such  ground  and  to  such  wholesome  end 
As  clears  her  from  all  blame. 
Lear.  My  curses  on  her  I 
j^  O,  sir,  you  are  old; 

'  Nature  in  you  stands  on  the  very  verge 
Of  her  confine :   you  should  be  ruled  and  led        150 
Bv  some  discretion  that  discerns  your  state 
Better  than  you  yourself.     Therefore  I  pray  you 
That  to  our  sister  you  do  make  return ; 
Say  you  have  wrong'd  her,  sir. 

Ask  her  forgiveness? 
'''''do  you  but  mark  how  this  becomes  the  house: 

[Kfieeling]  '  Dear  daughter,  I  confess  that  I  am  old, 
Aee  is  unnecessary:  on  my  knees  I  beg 
That  you  '11  vouchsafe  me  raiment,  bed  and  food. 
Reg,  Good  sir,  no  more;  these  are  unsightly  tricks: 

"^Return  you  to  my  sister. 
l^^^  [Rising]  Never,  Regan:  160 

She  hath  abated  me  of  half  my  train  ;^ 
Look'd  black  upon  me;   struck  me  with  her  tongue, 
Most  serpent-like,  upon  the  very  heart: 
All  the  stored  vengeances  of  heaven  fall 
On  her  ingrateful  top!   Strike  her  young  bones. 
You  taking  airs,  with  lameness. 
75 


Actll.Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

Cam.  Fie,  sir,  fie! 

Lear.  You  nimble  lightnings,  dart  your  blinding  flames 
Into  her  scornful  eyes.     Infect  her  beauty, 
You  fen-suck'd  fogs,  drawn  by  the  powerful  sun 
To  fall  and  blast  her  pride.  170 

Reg.  O  the  blest  gods!    so  will  you  wish  on  me, 
When  the  rash  mood  is  on. 

Lear.  No,  Regan,  thou  shalt  never  have  my  curse: 
Thy  tender-hefted  nature  shall  not  give 
Thee  o'er  to   harshness:    her   eyes  are   fierce,  but 

thine 
Do  comfort  and  not  burn.     'Tis  not  in  thee 
To  grudge  my  pleasures,  to  cut  off  my  train, 
To  bandy  hasty  words,  to  scant  my  sizes. 
And  in  conclusion  to  oppose  the  bolt 
Against  my  coming  in:  thou  better  know'st  180 

The  offices  of  nature,  bond  of  childhood. 
Effects  of  courtesy,  dues  of  gratitude; 
Thy  half  o'  the  kingdom  hast  thou  not  forgot. 
Wherein  I  thee  endow'd. 

Reg.  Good  sir,  to  the  purpose. 

Lear.  Who  put  my  man  i'  the  stocks?         [Tticket  within. 

Cam.  What  trumpet's  that? 

Reg.  I  know't;  my  sister's:  this  approves  her  letter. 
That  she  would  soon  be  here. 

Enter  Oswald. 

Is  your  lady  come? 
Lear.  This  is  a  slave  whose  easy-borrow'd  pride 

Dwells  in  the  fickle  grace  of  her  he  follows.        189 
Out,  varlet,  from  my  sight! 
Cam.  What  means  your  grace? 

76 


KING  LEAR  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

Lear.  Who   stock'd   my   servant  ?    Regan,   I   have  good 
hope 
Thou  didst  not  know  on  't.     Who  comes  here  ? 

Enter  Goneril. 

O  heavens, 
If  you  do  love  old  men,  if  your  sweet  sway 
Allow  obedience,  if  yourselves  are  old. 
Make  it  your  cause ;    send  down,  and  take  my  part ! 
[To  Gon.]   Art  not  ashamed  to  look  upon  this  beard? 

0  Regan,  wilt  thou  take  her  by  the  hand  ? 

Gon.  Why  not  by  the  hand,  sir  ?     How  have  I  offended  ? 

All 's  not  offence  that  indiscretion  finds 

And  dotage  terms  so. 
Lear.  O  sides,  you  are  too  tough ;  200 

Will    you    yet   hold?     How    came    my    man    i'    the 
stocks  ? 
Corn.  I  set  him  there,  sir;  but  his  own  disorders 

Deserved  much  less  advancement. 
Lear.  You !   did  you  ? 

Reg.  I  pray  you,  father,  being  weak,  seem  so. 

If,  till  the  expiration  of  your  month. 

You  will  return  and  sojourn  with  my  sister, 

Dismissing  half  your  train,  come  then  to  me : 

1  am  now  from  home  and  out  of  that  provision 
Which  shall  be  needful  for  your  entertainment. 

Lear.  Return  to  her,  and  fifty  men  dismiss'd?  210 

No,  rather  I  abjure  all  roofs,  and  choose 
To  wage  against  the  enmity  o'  the  air. 
To  be  a  comrade  with  the  wolf  and  owl, — 
Necessity's  sharp  pinch!     Return  with  her? 
Why,  the  hot-blooded  France,  that  dowerless  took 
Our  youngest  born,  I  could  as  well  be  brought 
To  knee  his  throne,  and,  squire-like,  pension  beg 

77 


Actll.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

To  keep  base  life  afoot.     Return  with  her? 
Persuade  me  rather  to  be  slave  and  sumpter 
To  this  detested  groom.  [Pointing  at  Oswald. 

Gon.  At  your  choice,  sir.  220 

Lear.  I  prithee,  daughter,  do  not  make  me  mad: 
I  will  not  trouble  thee,  my  child;   farewell: 
We  '11  no  more  meet,  no  more  see  one  another: 
But  yet  thou  art  my  flesh,  my  blood,  my  daughter; 
Or  rather  a  disease  that 's  in  my  flesh, 
Which  I  must  needs  call  mine:  thou  art  a  boil, 
A  plague-sore,  an  embossed  carbuncle. 
In  my  corrupted  blood.     But  I  '11  not  chide  thee; 
Let  shame  come  when  it  will,  I  do  not  call  it: 
I  do  not  bid  the  thunder-bearer  shoot,  230 

Nor  tell  tales  of  thee  to  high-judging  Jove: 
Mend  when  thou  canst;   be  better  at  thy  leisure: 
I  can  be  patient;   I  can  stay  with  Regan, 
I  and  my  hundred  knights, 

Reg.  Not  altogether  so: 

I  look'd  not  for  you  yet,  nor  am  provided 
For  your  fit  welcome.     Give  ear,  sir,  to  my  sister; 
For  those  that  mingle  reason  with  your  passion 
Must  be  content  to  think  you  old,  and  so — 
But  she  knows  what  she  does. 

Lear.  Is  this  well  spoken  ? 

Reg.  I  dare  avouch  it,  sir:   what,  fifty  followers?        240 
Is  it  not  well?     What  should  you  need  of  more? 
Yea,  or  so  many,  sith  that  both  charge  and  danger 
Speak  'gainst   so  great  a  number?     How   in   one 

house 
Should  many  people  under  two  commands 
Hold  amity  ?     'Tis  hard,  almost  impossible. 

Gon.  Why  might  not  you,  my  lord,  receive  attendance 

78 


KING  LEAR  Act  II.  Sc.  iv. 

From  those  that  she  calls  servants  or  from  mine? 
Reg.  Why  not,  my  lord?     If  then  they  chanced  to  slack 
you, 
We  could  control  them.     If  you  will  come  to  me. 
For  now  I  spy  a  danger,  I  entreat  you  250 

To  bring  but  five  and  twenty:  to  no  more 
Will  I  give  place  or  notice. 
Lear.  I  gave  you  all — 

^eg.  And  in  good  time  you  gave  it. 

Lear.  Made  you  my  guardians,  my  depositaries, 
But  kept  a  reservation  to  be  followed 
With  such  a  number.     What,  must  I  come  to  you 
With  five  and  twenty,  Regan?    said  you  so? 
Reg.  And  speak  't  again,  my  lord ;  no  more  with  me. 
Lear.  Those  wicked  creatures  yet  do  look  well-favour'd, 
When  others  are  more  wicked;  not  being  the  worst 
Stands  in  some  rank  of  praise.     [To  Gon.]  I'll  go 
with  thee:  ^^^ 

Thy  fifty  yet  doth  double  five  and  twenty. 
And  thou  art  twice  her  love. 
QQyi^  Hear  me,  my  lord: 

What  need  you  five  and  twenty,  ten,  or  five. 
To  follow  in  a  house  where  twice  so  many 
Have  a  command  to  tend  you? 
j^(,a  What  need  one? 

Lear.  O,  reason  not  the  need:  our  basest  beggars 
Are  in  the  poorest  thing  superfluous: 
Allow  not  nature  more  than  nature  needs, 
Man's  life  's  as  cheap  as  beast's:  thou  art  a  lady; 
If  only  to  go  warm  were  gorgeous,  271 

Why,  nature  needs  not  what  thou  gorgeous  wear'st, 
Which   scarcely   keeps   thee  warm.     But   for  true 
need, — 

79 


Actll.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

You  heavens,  give  me  that  patience,  patience  I  need! 
You  see  me  here,  you  gods,  a  poor  old  man, 
As  full  of  grief  as  age;  wretched  in  both: 
/  If  it  be  you  that  stirs  these  daughters'  hearts 
Against  their  father,  fool  me  not  so  much 
To  bear  it  tamely;  touch  me  with  noble  anger, 
And  let  not  women's  weapons,  water-drops,        280 
Stain  my  man's  cheeks!  No,  you  unnatural  hags, 
I  will  have  such  revenges  on  you  both 
That  all  the  world  shall — I  will  do  such  things, — 
What  they  are,  yet  I  know  not,  but  they  shall  be 
The  terrors  of  the  earth.     You  think  I  '11  weep; 
No,  I  '11  not  weep: 
I  have  full  cause  of  weeping;  but  this  heart 
Shall  break  into  a  hundred  thousand  flaws. 
Or  ere  I  '11  weep.     O  fool,  I  shall  go  mad! 

[Exeunt  Lear,  Gloiieester,  Kent,  and  Fool. 

Corn.  Let  us  withdraw;   'twill  be  a  storm.  290 

[Storm  and  tempest. 

Reg.  This  house  is  little:   the  old  man  and  his  people 
Cannot  be  well  bestow'd. 

Gon.  'Tis  his  own  blame;  hath  put  himself  from  rest, 
And  must  needs  taste  his  folly. 

Reg.  For  his  particular,  I  '11  receive  him  gladly, 
But  not  one  follower. 

Gon.  So  am  I  purposed. 

Where  is  my  lord  of  Gloucester? 

Cam.  Follow'd  the  old  man  forth:  he  Is  return'd. 

Re-enter  Gloucester. 

Glou.  The  king  is  in  high  rage. 

Corn.  Whither  is  he  going? 

80 


KING   LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  i. 

Glou.  He  calls  to  horse;  but  will  I  know  not  whither.  300 
Cam.  'Tis  best  to  give  him  way;  he  leads  himself. 
Gon.  My  lord,  entreat  him  by  no  means  to  stay. 
Glou.  Alack,  the  night  comes  on,  and  the  bleak  winds 

Do  sorely  ruffle;  for  many  miles  about 

There  's  scarce  a  bush. 
Reg.  O,  sir,  to  wilful  men 

The  injuries  that  they  themselves  procure 

Must  be  their  schoolmasters.     Shut  up  your  doors : 

He  is  attended  with  a  desperate  train; 

And  what  they  may  incense  him  to,  being  apt 

To  have  his  ear  abused,  wisdom  bids  fear.  310 

Corn.  Shut  up  your  doors,  my  lord;  'tis  a  wild  night: 

My  Regan  counsels  well:  come  out  o'  the  storm. 

[Exeunt. 

ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

A  heath. 
Storm  still.     Enter  Kent  and  a  Gentleman,  meeting. 

Kent.  Who  's  there,  besides  foul  weather? 

Gent.  One  minded  like  the  weather,  most  unquietly. 

Kent.  I  know  you.     Where  's  the  king? 

Gent.  Contending  with  the  fretful  elements; 
Bids  the  wind  blow  the  earth  into  the  sea. 
Or  swell  the  curled  waters  'bove  the  main. 
That  things  might  change  or  cease;   tears  his  white 

hair, 
Which  the  impetuous  blasts,  with  eyeless  rage. 
Catch  in  their  fury,  and  make  nothing  of; 
81 


Act  III.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Strives  in  his  little  world  of  man  to  out-scorn        lo 

The  to-and-fro-conflicting  wind  and  rain. 

This    night,    wherein    the    cub-drawn    bear    would 

couch, 
The  lion  and  the  belly-pinched  wolf 
Keep  their  fur  dry,  unbonneted  he  runs. 
And  bids  what  will  take  all. 

Kent.  But  who  is  with  him? 

Gent.  None  but  the  fool;  who  labours  to  out-jest 
His  heart-struck  injuries. 

Kent.  Sir,  I  do  know  you; 

And  dare,  upon  the  warrant  of  my  note, 
Commend  a  dear  thing;  to  you.     There  is  division. 
Although  as  yet  the  face  of  it  be  cover'd  20 

With  mutual  cunning,  'twixt  Albany  and  Cornwall; 
Who  have — as  who  have  not,  that  their  great  stars 
Throned  and  set  high? — servants,  who  seem  no  less, 
Which  are  to  France  the  spies  and  speculations 
Intelligent  of  our  state;   what  hath  been  seen, 
Either  in  snufts  and  packings  of  the  dukes, 
Or  the  hard  rein  which  both  of  them  have  borne 
Against  the  old  kind  king,  or  something  deeper. 
Whereof  perchance  these  are  but  furnishings, — 
But  true  it  is,  from  France  there  comes  a  power    30 
Into  this  scatter'd  kingdom;  who  already, 
Wise  in  our  negligence,  have  secret  feet 
In  some  of  our  best  ports,  and  are  at  point 
To  show  their  open  banner.     Now  to  you: 
If  on  my  credit  you  dare  build  so  far 
To  make  your  speed  to  Dover,  you  shall  find 
Some  that  will  thank  you,  making  just  r^eport 
Of  how  unnatural  and  bemadding  sorrow 
The  king  hath  cause  to  plain. 
82 


KING   LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

I  am  a  gentleman  of  blood  and  breeding,  40 

And  from  some  knowledge  and  assurance  offer 
This  ofTfice  to  you. 

Gent.  I  will  talk  further  with  you. 

Kent.  No,  do  not. 

For  confirmation  that  I  am  much  more 
Than  my  out-wall,  open  this  purse  and  take 
What  it  contains.     If  you  shall  see  Cordelia, — 
As  fear  not  but  you  shall, — show  her  this  ring. 
And  she  will  tell  you  who  your  fellow  is 
That  yet  you  do  not  know.     Fie  on  this  storm! 
I  will  go  seek  the  king. 

Gent.  Give  me  your  hand:  50 

Have  you  no  more  to  say? 

Kent.  Few  words,  but,  to  efifect,  more  than  all  yet; 

That  when  we  have  found  the  king, — in  which  your 

pain 
That  way,  I  '11  this, — he  that  first  lights  on  him 
Holla  the  other.  [Exeunt  severally. 

Scene  II. 

Another  part  of  the  heath.     Storm  still. 
Enter  Lear  and  Fool. 

Lear.  Blow,  winds,  and  crack  your  cheeks!   rage!  blow! 
You  cataracts  and  hurricanoes,  spout 
Till  you  have  drench'd  our  steeples,  drown'd  the 

cocks! 
You  sulphurous  and  thought-executing  fires, 
Vaunt-couriers  to  oak-cleaving  thunderbolts, 
Singe  my  white  head!     And  thou,  all-shaking  thun- 
der, 
Smite  flat  the  thick  rotundity  o'  the  world! 

83 


Act  III.  Sc.  ii.  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

Crack  nature's  moulds,  all  germins  spill  at  once 
That  make  ingrateful  man! 

Fool.  O  nuncle,  court  holy-water  in  a  dry  house  is     lo 
better  than  this  rain-water  out  o'  door.     Good 
nuncle,   in,   and   ask  thy   daughters'   blessing: 
here  's  a  night  pities  neither  wise  man  nor  fool. 

Lear.  Rumble  thy  bellyful!     Spit,  fire!    spout,  rain! 
Nor  rain,  wind,  thunder,  fire,  are  my  daughters: 

\I  tax  not  you,  you  elements,  with  unkindness; 
I  never  gave  you  kingdom,  call'd  you  children, 
You  owe  me  no  subscription :   then  let  fall 
Your  horrible  pleasure;  here  I  stand,  your  slave, 
A  poor,  infirm,  weak  and  despised  old  man:  20 

But  yet  I  call  you  servile  ministers. 
That  have  with  two  pernicious  daughters  join'd 
Your  high-engender'd  battles  'gainst  a  head 
Sooldandjkvhiteasthis.     O!  O!  'tis  foul! 

Fool.  He  that  has  a  house  to  put 's  head  in  has  a 
good  head-piece. 

The  cod-piece  that  will  house 

Before  the  head  has  any, 
The  head  and  he  shall  louse 

So  beggars  marry  many.  30 

The  man  that  makes  his  toe 

What  he  his  heart  should  make 
Shall  of  a  corn  cry  woe, 

And  turn  his  sleep  to  wake. 

For  there  was  never  yet  fair  woman  but  she 
made  mouths  in  a  glass. 

Lear.  No,  I  will  be  the  pattern  of  all  patience ; 
I  will  say  nothing. 

84 


KING   LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  ii. 

Enter  Kent. 

Kent.  Who's  there? 

Fool.  Marry,  here 's  grace  and  a  cod-piece;  that 's  a     40 
wise  man  and  a  fool. 

Kent.  Alas,  sir,  are  you  here?  things  that  love  night 
Love  not  such  nights  as  these;  the  wrathful  skies 
Gallow  the  very  wanderers  of  the  dark, 
And  make  them  keep  their  caves :   since  I  was  man, 
Such  sheets  of  fire,  such  bursts  of  horrid  thunder, 
Such  groans  of  roaring  wind  and  rain,  I  never 
Remember  to   have   heard:    man's   nature   cannot 

carry 
The  affliction  nor  the  fear, 

Lear.  Let  the  great  gods. 

That  keep  this  dreadful  pother  o'er  our  heads,      50 
Find  out  their  enemies  now.     Tremble,  thou  wretch. 
That  hast  within  thee  undivulged  crimes, 
Unwhipp'd  of  justice:  hide  thee,  thou  bloody  hand; 
Thou  perjured,  and  thou  simular  man  of  virtue 
That  art  incestuous:   caitiff,  to  pieces  shake. 
That  under  covert  and  convenient  seeming 
Hast  practised  on  man's  life:  close  pent-up  guilts. 
Rive  your  concealing  continents  and  cry 
These  dreadful  summoners  grace.     I  am  a  man    59 
More  sinn'd  against  than  sinmng. 

Kent.  Alack,  bare-headed! 

Gracious  my  lord,  hard  by  here  is  a  hovel; 
Some  friendship  will  it  lend  you  'gainst  the  tempest: 
Repose  you  there;  while  I  to  this  hard  house — 
More  harder  than  the  stones  whereof  'tis  raised; 
Which  even  but  now,  demanding  after  you, 
Denied  me  to  come  in — return,  and  force 
Their  scanty  courtesy. 

85 


1 


Actlll.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Lear.  My  wits  begin  to  turn. 

Come  on,  my  boy:   how  dost,  my  boy?  art  cold? 
I  am  cold  myself.     Where  is  this  straw,  my  fellow? 
The  art  of  our  necessities  is  strange,  70 

That  can  make  vile  things  precious.     Come,  your 

hovel. 
Poor  fool  and  knave,  I  have  one  part  in  my  heart 
That 's  sorry  yet  for  thee. 
Fool.      [Singing] 

He  that  has  and  a  little  tiny  wit, — 
With  hey,  ho,  the  wind  and  the  rain, — 
Must  make  content  with  his  fortunes  fit. 
For  the  rain  it  raineth  every  day. 
Lear.  True,  my  good  boy.     Come,  bring  us  to  this  hovel. 

[Exeunt  Lear  and  Kent. 

Fool.  This  is  a  brave  night  to  cool  a  courtezan.     I  '11 

speak  a  prophecy  ere  I  go :  80 

When  priests  are  more  in  word  than  matter; 

When  brewers  mar  their  malt  with  water; 

When  nobles  are  their  tailors'  tutors; 

No  heretics  burn'd,  but  wenches'  suitors; 

When  every  case  in  law  is  right; 

No  squire  in  debt,  nor  no  poor  knight; 

When  slanders  do  not  live  in  tongues, 

Nor  cutpurses  come  not  to  throngs; 

When  usurers  tell  their  gold  i'  the  field, 

And  bawds  and  whores  do  churches  build;         90 

Then  shall  the  realm  of  Albion 

Come  to  great  confusion: 

Then  comes  the  time,  who  Hves  to  see  't, 

That  going  shall  be  used  with  feet. 
This  prophecy  Merlin  shall  make;   for  I  live  before 
his  time.  [Exit. 

86 


KING   LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  Hi. 

Scene  III. 

Gloucester's  castle. 

Enter  Gloucester  and  Edmund. 

Glou.  Alack,  alack,  Edmund,  I  like  not  this  unnat- 
ural dealing.  When  I  desired  their  leave  that 
I  might  pity  him,  they  took  from  me  the  use  of 
mine  own  house;  charged  me,  on  pain  of  their 
perpetual  displeasure,  neither  to  speak  of  him, 
entreat  for  him,  nor  any  way  sustain  him. 

Edm.  Most  savage  and  unnatural! 

Glou.  Go  to ;  say  you  nothing.  There  *s  a  division 
betwixt  the  dukes,  and  a  worse  matter  than 
that:  I  have  received  a  letter  this  night;  'tis 
dangerous  to  be  spoken;  I  have  locked  the  let-  lo 
ter  in  my  closet:  these  injuries  the  king  now 
bears  will  be  revenged  home;  there  is  part  of  a 
power  already  footed:  we  must  incline  to  the 
king.  I  will  seek  him  and  privily  relieve  him: 
go  you,  and  maintain  talk  with  the  duke,  that 
my  charity  be  not  of  him  perceived:  if  he  ask 
for  me,  I  am  ill  and  gone  to  bed.  Though  I  die 
for  it,  as  no  less  is  threatened  me,  the  king  my 
old  master  must  be  relieved.  There  is  some 
strange  thing  toward,  Edmund;  pray  you,  be  20 
careful.  [Exit. 

Edm.  This  courtesy,  forbid  thee,  shall  the  duke 
Instantly  know,  and  of  that  letter  too: 
This  seems  a  fair  deserving,  and  must  draw  me 
That  which  my  father  loses;  no  less  than  all: 
The  younger  rises  when  the  old  doth  fall.  [Exit. 

87 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

Scene  IV. 

The  heath.     Before  a  hovel. 
Enter  Lear,  Kent,  and  Fool. 

Kent.  Here  is  the  place,  my  lord;  good  my  lord,  enter: 
The  tyranny  of  the  open  night 's  too  rough 
For  nature  to  endure.  [Storm  still. 

Lear.  Let  me  alone. 

Kent.  Good  my  lord,  enter  here. 

Lear.  Wilt  break  my  heart? 

Kent.  I  had  rather  break  mine  own.     Good  my  lord, 
enter. 

Lear.  Thou  think'st  'tis  much  that  this  contentious  storm 
Invades  us  to  the  skin:   so  'tis  to  thee; 
But  where  the  greater  malady  is  fix'd 
The  lesser  is  scarce  felt.     Thou  'Idst  shun  a  bear, 
But  if  thy  flight  lay  toward  the  raging  sea  lo 

Thou  'Idst  meet  the  bear  i'  the  mouth.     When  the 

mind  's  free 
The  body  's  delicate :   the  tempest  in  my  mind 
Doth  from  my  senses  take  all  feeling  else 
Save  what  beats  there.     Filial  ingratitude! 
Is  it  not  as  this  mouth  should  tear  this  hand 
For  lifting  food  to  't?     But  I  will  punish  home. 
No,  I  will  weep  no  more.     In  such  a  night 
To  shut  me  out!     Pour  on;   I  will  endure. 
In  such  a  night  as  this!     O  Regan,  Goneril! 
Your  old  kind  father,  whose  frank  heart  gave  you 
all, —  20 

I     O,  that  way  madness  Jiesj^  let  me  shun  that; 
Nolntrr6~-ol±haiv^ 

Kent.  Good  my  lord,  enter  here. 

Lear.  Prithee,  go  in  thyself ;  seek  thine  own  ease : 

88 


KING  LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  iv; 

This  tempest  will  not  give  me  leave  to  ponder 
On  things  would  hurt  me  more.     But  I  '11  go  in. 
[To  the  Fool]   In,  boy;  go  first.     You  houseless  pov-     / 
erty—  ^ 

Nay,  get  thee  in.     I  '11  pray,  and  then  I  '11  sleep.  /^ 

[Fool  goes  in.' 
Poor  naked  wretches,  wheresoe'er  you  are, 
That  bide  the  pelting  of  this  pitiless  storm, 
How  shall  your  houseless  heads  and  unfed  sides,  30   . 
Your  loop'd  and  window'd  raggedness,  defend  you    /    L 
From  seasons  such  as  these?     O,  I  have  ta'en  1  /^ 

Too  Httle  care  of  this!     Take  physic,  pomp;  I 

Expose  thyself  to  feel  what  wretches  feel. 
That  thou  mayst  shake  the  superflux  to  them    / 
And  show  the  heavens  more  just.  ^ 

Edg.  [Within]  Fathom  and  half,  fathom  and  half! 

Poor  Tom !  [  The  Fool  runs  out  from  the  hovel. 

Fool.  Come  not  in  here,  nuncle,  here  's  a  spirit. 

Help  me,  help  me!  40 

Kent.  Give  me  thy  hand.     Who  's  there? 

Fool.  A  spirit,  a  spirit:  he  says  his  name  's  poor  Tom. 

Kent.  What  art    thou   that   dost   grumble  there   i'   the 
straw? 
Come  forth. 

Enter  Edgar  disguised  as  a  madman. 

Edg.  Away!   the  foul  fiend  follows  me! 

'  Through  the  sharp  hawthorn  blows  the  cold  wind/ 

Hum!  go  to  thy  cold  bed  and  warm  thee. 
Lear.  Hast  thou  given  all  to  thy  two  daughters? 

and  art  thou  come  to  this? 
Edg.  Who  gives  any  thing  to  poor  Tom?  whom  the     50 

foul  fiend  hath  led  through  fire  and  through 

89 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

flame,  through  ford  and  whirlpool,  o'er  bog  and 
quagmire;  that  hath  laid  knives  under  his  pil- 
low and  halters  in  his  pew;  set  ratsbane  by  his 
porridge;  made  him  proud  of  heart,  to  ride  on 
a  bay  trotting-horse  over  four-inched  bridges, 
to  course  his  own  shadow  for  a  traitor.  Bless 
thy  five  wits!  Tom  's  a-cold.  O,  do  de,  do  de, 
do  de.  Bless  thee  from  whirlwinds,  star-blast- 
ing, and  taking!  Do  poor  Tom  some  charity,  60 
whom  the  foul  fiend  vexes.  There  could  I 
have  him  now,  and  there,  and  there  again,  and 
there.  [Storm  still. 

Lear.  What,  have  his   daughters  brought  him   to  this 
pass? 
Couldst  thou  save  nothing?     Didst  thou  give  them 
all? 

Fool.  Nay,  he  reserved  a  blanket,  else  we  had  been 
all  shamed. 

Lear.  Now,  all  the  plagues  that  in  the  pendulous  air 

Hang  fated  o'er  men's  faults  light  on  thy  daughters? 

Kent.  He  hath  no  daughters,  sir. 

Lear.  Death,  traitor!  nothing  could  have  subdued  nature 
To  such  a  lowness  but  his  unkind  daughters.  71 

Is  it  the  fashion  that  discarded  fathers 
Should  have  thus  little  mercy  on  their  flesh? 
Judicious  punishment!  'twas  this  flesh  begot 
Those  pelican  daughters. 

Edg.  Pillicock  sat  on  Pillicock-hill: 

Haljoo,  halloo,  loo,  loo! 

Fool.  This  cold  night  will  turn  us  all  to  fools  and 
madmen. 

Edg.  Take  heed   o'  the  foul  fiend:    obey  thy  pa-     80 
rents;  keep  thy  word  justly;    swear  not;    com- 
mit not  with  man's  sworn  spouse;   set  not  thy 
3weet  heart  on  proud  array.     Tom  's  a-cold, 
90 


KING  LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Lear.  What  hast  thou  been? 

Edg.  A  serving-man,  proud  in  heart  and  mind;  that 
curled  my  hair;  wore  gloves  in  my  cap;  served 
the  lust  of  my  mistress'  heart  and  did  the  act  of 
darkness  with  her;  swore  as  many  oaths  as  I 
spake  words  and  broke  them  in  the  sweet  face 
of  heaven:  one  that  slept  in  the  contriving  of  90 
lust  and  waked  to  do  it :  wine  loved  I  deeply, 
dice  dearly,  and  in  woman  out-paramoured  the 
Turk:  false  of  heart,  light  of  ear,  bloody  of 
hand;  hog  in  sloth, fox  in  stealth, wolf  in  greedi- 
ness, dog  in  madness,  lion  in  prey.  Let  not  the 
creaking  of  shoes  nor  the  rustling  of  silks 
betray  thy  poor  heart  to  woman:  keep  thy  foot 
out  of  brothels,  thy  hand  out  of  plackets,  thy 
pen  from  lenders'  books,  and  defy  the  foul  fiend. 
'  Still  through   the   hawthorn  blows   the   cold 

wind.'  100 

Says  suum,  mun,  ha,  no,  nonny. 
Dolphin  my  boy,  my  boy,  sessa!    let  him  trot 

by.  [Storm  still. 

Lear.  Why  thou  wert  better  in  thy  grave  than  to 
answer  with  thy  uncovered  body  this  extremity 
of  the  skies.  Is  man  no  more  than  this?  Con- 
sider him  well.  Thou  owest  the  worm  no  silk, 
the  beast  no  hide,  the  sheep  no  wool,  the  cat  no 
perfume.  Ha!  here's  three  on 's  are  sophisti-  no 
cated.  Thou  art  the  thing  itself:  unaccom- 
modated man  is  no  more  but  such  a  poor,  bare, 
forked  animal  as  thou  art.  Of¥,  ofif,  you  lend- 
ings!  come,  unbutton  here.     [Tearing  ofF  his  clothes. 

Fool.  Prithee,  nuncle,  be  contented;   'tis  a  naughty 
night  to  swim  in.     Now  a  little  fire  in  a  wild 

91 


Act  III.  Sc.  iv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

field  were  like  an  old  lecher's  heart,  a  small 
spark,  all  the  rest  on 's  body  cold.  Look,  here 
comes  a  walking  fire. 

Enter  Gloucester,  zvith  a  torch. 

Edg.  This    is    the    foul    fiend    Flibbertigibbet:     he 
begins  at  curfew  and  walks  till  the  first  cock; 
he  gives  the  web  and  the  pin,  squints  the  eye  120 
and   makes   the   hare-lip;    mildews   the   white 
wheat  and  hurts  the  poor  creature  of  earth. 
Saint  Withold  footed  thrice  the  'old ; 
He  met  the  night-mare  and  her  nine-fold; 
Bid  her  alight. 
And  her  troth  plight. 
And  aroint  thee,  witch,  aroint  thee! 
Kent.  How  fares  your  grace  ? 
Lear.  What 's  he? 

Kent.  Who  's  there?     What  is  't  you  seek?  130 

Glou.  What  are  you  there?  Your  names? 
Edg.  Poor  Tom,  that  eats  the  swimming  frog,  the 
toad,  the  tadpole,  the  wall-newt  and  the  water; 
that  in  the  fury  of  his  heart,  when  the  foul  fiend 
rages,  eats  cow'-dung  for  sallets;  swallows  the 
old  rat  and  the  ditch-dog;  drinks  the  green 
mantle  of  the  standing  pool;  who  is  whipped 
from  tithing  to  tithing,  and  stock-punished,  and 
imprisoned;  who  hath  had  three  suits  to  his 
back,  six  shirts  to  his  body,  horse  to  ride  and 
weapon  to  wear;  140 

But  mice  and  rats  and  such  small  deer 
Have  been  Tom's  food  for  seven  long  year. 
Beware  my  follower.     Peace,  Smulkin;  peace,  thou 
fiend! 

92 


KING   LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  iv. 

Glou.  What,  hath  your  grace  no  better  company? 

Edg.  The  prince  of  darkness  is  a  gentleman :   Modo 
he 's  call'd,  and  Mahu. 

Glou.  Our  flesh  and  blood  is  grown  so  vile,  my  lord, 
That  it  doth  hate  what  gets  it. 

Edg.  Poor  Tom  's  a-cold. 

Glou.  Go  in  with  me:   my  duty  cannot  suffer  150 

To  obey  in  all  your  daughters'  hard  commands: 
Though  their  injunction  be  to  bar  my  doors 
And  let  this  tyrannous  night  take  hold  upon  you, 
Yet  have  I  ventured  to  come  seek  you  out 
And  bring  you  where  both  fire  and  food  is  ready. 

Lear.  First  let  me  talk  with  this  philosopher./  ^ 
What  is  the  cause  of  thunder?  ^^ 

Kent.  Good  my  lord,  take  his  offer;  go  into  the  house. 

Lear.  I  '11  talk  a  word  with  this  same  learned  Theban. 
What  is  your  study?  160 

Edg.  How  to  prevent  the  fiend  and  to  kill  vermin. 

Lear.  Let  me  ask  you  one  word  in  private. 

Kent.  Importune  him  once  more  to  go,  my  lord; 
His  wits  begin  to  unsettle. 

Glou.  Canst  thou  blame  him? 

[Storm  still. 
His  daughters  seek  his  death:  ah,  that  good  Kent! 
He  said  it  would  be  thus,  poor  banish'd  man! 
Thou   say'st  the   king  grows   mad:    I'll  tell  thee, 

friend, 
I  am  almost  mad  myself:  I  had  a  son, 
Now  outlaw'd  from  my  blood;  he  sought  my  Hfe, 
But  lately,  very  late:   I  loved  him,  friend,  170 

No  father  his  son  dearer:  truth  to  tell  thee. 
The  grief  hath  crazed  my  wits.     What  a  night 's  this ! 
I  do  beseech  your  grace, — 

93 


Actlll.Scv.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Lear.  O,  cry  you  mercy,  sir. 

Noble  philosopher,  your  company. 
Edg.  Tom  's  a-cold. 

Glou.  In,  fellow,  there,  into  the  hovel :  keep  thee  warm. 
Lear.  Come,  let 's  in  all. 
Kent.  This  way,  my  lord. 

Lear.  With  him; 

I  will  keep  still  with  my  philosopher. 
Kent.  Good  my  lord,  soothe  him;  let  him  take  the  fellow. 
Glou.  Take  him  you  on.  i8o 

Kent.  Sirrah,  come  on;  go  along  with  us. 
Lear.  Come,  good  Athenian. 
Glou.  No  words,  no  words :  hush. 
Edg.  Child  Rowland  to  the  dark  tower  came: 

His  word  was  still  '  Fie,  foh,  and  fum, 
I  smell  the  blood  of  a  British  man.'  [Exeunt. 

Scene  V. 

Gloucester's  castle. 
Enter  Cornwall  and  Edmund. 

Corn.  I  will  have  my  revenge  ere  I  depart  his  house. 

Edm.  How,  my  lord,  I  may  be  censured,  that  nature 
thus  gives  way  to  loyalty,  something  fears  me 
to  think  of. 

Corn.  I  now  perceive,  it  was  not  altogether  your 
brother's  evil  disposition  made  him  seek  his 
death,  but  a  provoking  merit,  set  a-work  by  a 
reproveable  badness  in  himself. 

Edm.  How  malicious  is  my  fortune,  that  I  must  re- 
pent to  be  just!     This  is  the  letter  he  spoke  of,     lo 
which  approves  him  an  intelligent  party  to  the 

94 


KING  LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  vi. 

advantages  of  France.     O  heavens!    that  this 
treason  were  not,  or  not  I  the  detector! 

Corn,  Go  with  me  to  the  duchess. 

Edm.  If  the  matter  of  this  paper  be  certain,  you  have 
mighty  business  in  hand. 

Corn.  True  or  false,  it  hath  made  thee  earl  of  Glou- 
cester. Seek  out  where  thy  father  is,  that  he 
may  be  ready  for  our  apprehension. 

Edm.  [Aside]  If  I  find  him  comforting  the  king,  it     20 
will  stuff  his  suspicion  more  fully. — I  will  per- 
sever  in  my  course  of  loyalty,  though  the  con- 
flict be  sore  between  that  and  my  blood. 

Corn.  I  will  lay  trust  upon  thee,  and  thou  shalt  find  a 

dearer  father  in  my  love.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  VI. 

A  chamber  in  a  farmhouse  adjoining  the  castle. 
Enter  Gloucester,  Lear,  Kent,  Fool,  and  Edgar. 

Clou.  Here  is  better  than  the  open  air ;  take  it  thank- 
fully, I  will  piece  out  the  comfort  with  what 
addition  I  can:  I  will  not  be  long  from  you. 

Kent.  All  the  power  of  his  wits  have  given  way  to 
his  impatience:  the  gods  reward  your  kindness! 

[Exit  Gloucester. 

Edg.  Frateretto  calls  me,  and  tells  me  Nero  is  an 
angler  in  the  lake  of  darkness.  Pray,  innocent, 
and  beware  the  foul  fiend. 

Fool.  Prithee,  nuncle,  tell  me  whether  a  madman  be 

a  gentleman  or  a  yeoman.  10 

Lear.  A  king,  a  king! 

Fool.  No,  he  's  a  yeoman  that  has  a  gentleman  to  his 

95 


Act  III.  Sc.  vi.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

son,  for  he  's  a  mad  yeoman  that  sees  his  son  a 
gentleman  before  him. 
Lear.  To  have  a  thousand  with  red  burning  spits 

Come  hissing  in  upon  'em, — 
Edg.  The  foul  fiend  bites  my  back. 
Fool.  He  's  mad  that  trusts  in  the  tameness  of  a  wolf, 
a  horse's  health,  a  boy's  love,  or  a  whore's 
oath.  20 

Lear.  It  shall  be  done;  I  will  arraign  them  straight. 

[To  Edgar]      Come,   sit  thou  here,   most   learned 

justicer; 
[To  the  Fool]  Thou,  sapient  sir,  sit  here.     Now,  you 
she  foxes! 
Edg.  Look,  where  he  stands  and  glares!     Wantest 
thou  eyes  at  trial,  madam? 

Come  o'er  the  bourn,  Bessy,  tO'  me. 
Fool.  Her  boat  hath  a  leak. 

And  she  must  not  speak 
Why  she  dares  not  come  over  to  thee. 
Edg.  The  foul  fiend  haunts  poor  Tom  in  the  voice  of     30 
a  nightingale.     Hopdance  cries  in  Tom's  belly 
for  two  white  herring.     Croak  not,  black  angel; 
I  have  no  food  for  thee. 
Kent.  How  do  you,  sir?     Stand  you  not  so  amazed: 
Will  you  lie  down  and  rest  upon  the  cushions? 
Lear.  I  '11  see  their  trial  first.     Bring  in  the  evidence. 

[To  Edgar]   Thou  robed  man  of  justice,  take  thy 

place; 
[To  the  Fool]  And  thou,  his  yoke-fellow  of  equity. 
Bench  by  his  side.     [To  Kent]  You  are  o'  the  com- 
mission; 
Sit  you  too.  40 

Edg.  Let  us  deal  justly. 

96 


KING  LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  vi 

Sleepest  or  wakest  thou,  jolly  shepherd? 

Thy  sheep  be  in  the  corn  ; 
And  for  one  blast  of  thy  minikin  mouth, 
Thy  sheep  shall  take  no  harm. 
Pur!  the  cat  is  gray. 
Lear.  Arraign  her  first;    'tis  Goneril.     I  here  take 
my  oath  before  this  honourable  assembly,  she 
kicked  the  poor  king  her  father. 
Fool.  Come  hither,  mistress.     Is  your  name  Goneril?  50 
Lear.  She  cannot  deny  it. 

Fool.  Cry  you  mercy,  I  took  you  for  a  joint-stool,  r::^^-^ 
Lear.  And  here  's  another,  whose  warp'd  looks  proclaim 
What  store  her  heart  is  made  on.     Stop  her  there! 
Arms,  arms,  sword,  fire!     Corruption  in  the  place! 
False  justicer,  why  hast  thou  let  her  'scape? 
Fdg.  Bless  thy  five  wits! 
Kent.  O  pity!     Sir,  w^here  is  the  patience  now, 

That  you  so  oft  have  boasted  to  retain? 
Fd^.   \^Asidc\  My    tears    begin    to    take    his    part    so 
much,  60 

They  '11  mar  my  counterfeiting. 
Lear.  The  little  dogs  and  all. 

Tray,  Blanch,  and  Sweet-heart,  see,  they  bark  at  me. 
Fdg.  Tom  will  throw  his  head  at  them.     Avaunt, 
you  curs! 

Be  thy  mouth  or  black  or  white, 

Tooth  that  poisons  if  it  bite; 

Mastiff,  greyhound,  mongrel  grim. 

Hound  or  spaniel,  brach  or  lym. 

Or  bobtail  tike  or  trundle-tail,  7^ 

Tom  will  make  them  weep  and  wail: 

For,  with  throwing  thus  my  head, 

Dogs  leap  the  hatch,  and  all  are  fled. 

97 


Act  III.  Sc.  vi.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

Do  de,  de,  de.  Sessa!  Come,  march  to  wakes 
and  fairs  and  market-towns.  Poor  Tom,  thy 
horn  is  dry. 

Lear,  Then  let  them  anatomize  Regan;  see  what  80 
breeds  about  her  heart.  Is  there  any  cause  in 
nature  that  makes  these  hard  hearts?  [To  Ed- 
gar] You,  sir,  I  entertain  for  one  of  my  hun- 
dred; only  I  do  not  like  the  fashion  of  your 
garments.  You  will  say  they  are  Persian  at- 
tire;  but  let  them  be  changed. 

Kent.  Now,  good  my  lord,  lie  here  and  rest  awhile. 

Lear.  Make  no  noise,  make  no  noise;  draw  the 
curtains:  so,  so,  so.  We  '11  go  to  supper  i'  the 
morning.     So,  so,  so. 

Fool.  And  I  '11  go  to  bed  at  noon. 

Re-enter  Gloucester. 

Glou.  Come  hither,  friend:  where  is  the  king  my  master? 

Kent.  Here,  sir;  but  trouble  him  not:  his  wits  are  gone. 

Glou.  Good  friend,  I  prithee,  take  him  in  thy  arms;      91 
I  have  o'erheard  a  plot  of  death  upon  him: 
There  is  a  litter  ready;  lay  him  in 't. 
And  drive  toward  Dover,  friend,  where  thou  shalt 

meet 
Both  welcome  and  protection.    Take  up  thy  master: 
If  thou  shouldst  dally  half  an  hour,  his  life, 
With  thine  and  all  that  of¥er  to  defend  him, 
Stand  in  assured  loss.     Take  up,  take  up, 
And  follow  me,  that  will  to  some  provision 
Give  thee  quick  conduct. 

Kent.  Oppressed  nature  sleeps.   100 

This  rest  might  yet  have  balm'd  thy  broken  sinews, 

98 


KING   LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  vii. 

Which,  if  convenience  will  not  allow, 

Stand  in  hard  cure.      [To  the  Fool]     Come,  help  to 

bear  thy  master; 
Thou  must  not  stay  behind. 

Glou.  Come,  come,  away. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Edgar. 

Edg.  When  we  our  betters  see  bearing  our  woes, 
We  scarcely  think  our  miseries  our  foes. 
Who  alone  sufifers  suffers  most  i'  the  mind, 
Leaving  free  things  and  happy  shows  behind: 
But  then  the  mind  much  sufferance  doth  o'erskip. 
When  grief  hath  mates,  and  bearing  fellowship,  no 
How  light  and  portable  my  pain  seems  now. 
When  that  which  makes  me  bend  makes  the  king 

bow. 
He  childed  as  I  father'd!     Tom,  away! 
Mark  the  high  noises,  and  thyself  bewray 
When  false  opinion,  whose  wrong  thought  defiles 

thee. 
In  thy  just  proof  repeals  and  reconciles  thee. 
What  will  hap  more  to-night,  safe  'scape  the  king! 
Lurk,  lurk.  [Exit. 

Scene  VII. 

Gloucester's  castle. 
Enter  Cornwall,  Regan,  Goneril,  Edmund,  and  Servants. 

Corn.  Post  speedily  to  my  lord  your  husband ;  show 
him  this  letter:  the  army  of  France  is  landed. 
Seek  out  the  traitor  Gloucester. 

[Exeunt  some  of  the  Servants. 

Reg.  Hang  him  instantly. 

Gon.  Pluck  out  his  eyes. 

Corn.  Leave  him  to  my  displeasure.     Edmund,  keep 

99 


Act  III.  Sc.  vii.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

you  our  sister  company:  the  revenges  we  are 
bound  to  take  upon  your  traitorous  father  are 
not  fit  for  your  beholding.  Advise  the  duke, 
where  you  are  going,  to  a  most  festinate  prepa-  lo 
ration:  we  are  bound  to  the  Hke.  Our  posts 
shall  be  swift  and  intelligent  betwixt  us.  Fare- 
well, dear  sister:  farewell,  my  lord  of  Glou- 
cester. 

Enter  Oswald. 
How  now!   where  's  the  king? 
Osw.  My  lord  of  Gloucester  hath  convey'd  him  hence: 
Some  five  or  six  and  thirty  of  his  knights, 
Hot  questrists  after  him,  met  him  at  gate; 
Who,  with  some  other  of  the  lords  dependants, 
Are  gone  with  him  toward  Dover;  where  they  boast 
To  have  well-armed  friends. 
Cam.  Get  horses  for  your  mistress.    20 

Gon.  Farewell,  sweet  lord,  and  sister. 
Corn.  Edmund,  farewell. 

[Exeunt  Goneril,  Edmund,  and  Oswald. 
Go  seek  the  traitor  Gloucester. 
Pinion  him  like  a  thief,  bring  him  before  us. 

{Exeunt  other  Servants. 
Though  well  we  may  not  pass  upon  his  Hfe 
Without  the  form  of  justice,  yet  our  power 
Shall  do  a  courtesy  to  our  wrath,  which  men 
May  blame  but  not   control.     Who's  there?    the 
traitor? 

Enter  Gloucester,  brought  in  by  two  or  three. 

Reg.  Ingrateful  fox!    'tis  he. 
Corn.  Bind  fast  his  corky  arms. 
Glou.  What  mean  your  graces?     Good  my  friends, 
consider 

100 


KING  LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  vii. 

You  are  my  guests :  do  me  no  foul  play,  friends.    31 
Corn.  Bind  him,  I  say.  [Servants  bind  him. 

Reg.  Hard,  hard.     O  filthy  traitor! 

Giou.  Unmerciful  lady  as  you  are,  I  'm  none. 
Cam.  To  this  chair  bind  him.     Villain,  thou  shalt  find — 

[Regan  plucks  his  beard. 
Clou.  By  the  kind  gods,  'tis  most  ignobly  done 

To  pluck  me  by  the  beard. 
Reg.  So  white,  and  such  a  traitor! 
Clou.  Naughty  lady, 

These  hairs  which  thou  dost  ravish  from  my  chin 

Will  quicken  and  accuse  thee:  I  am  your  host: 

With  robbers'  hands  my  hospitable  favours  40 

You  should  not  ruffle  thus.     What  will  you  do? 
Corn.  Come,  sir,  what  letters  had  you  late  from  France? 
Reg.  Be  simple  answerer,  for  we  know  the  truth. 
Corn.  And  what  confederacy  have  you  with  the  traitors 

Late  footed  in  the  kingdom? 
Reg.  To  whose  hands  have  you  sent  the  lunatic  king? 

Speak. 
Clou.  I  have  a  letter  guessingly  set  down. 

Which  came  from  one  that 's  of  a  neutral  heart, 

And  not  from  one  opposed. 
Corn.  Cunning. 

Reg.  '  And  false.     50 

Corn.  Where  hast  thou  sent  the  king? 
Clou.  To  Dover. 

Reg.  Wherefore  to  Dover?     Wast  thou  not  charged  at 

peril — 
Corn.  Wherefore  to  Dover?     Let  him  first  answer  that. 
Clou.  I  am  tied  to  the  stake,  and  I  must  stand  the  course. 
Reg.  Wherefore  to  Dover,  sir? 

lOI 


Act  III.  Sc.  vii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Glou.  Because  I  would  not  see  thy  cruel  nails 

Pluck  out  his  poor  old  eyes,  nor  thy  fierce  sister 
In  his  anointed  flesh  stick  boarish  fangs. 
The  sea,  with  such  a  storm  as  his  bare  head 
In  hell-black  night  endured,  would  have  buoy'd  up. 
And  quench'd  the  stelled  fires :  6i 

Yet,  poor  old  heart,  he  holp  the  heavens  to  rain. 
If  wolves  had  at  thy  gate  howl'd  that  stern  time, 
Thou  should'st  have  said,  '  Good  porter,  turn  the 

key,^ 
All  cruels  else  subscribed:   but  I  shall  see 
The  winged  vengeance  overtake  such  children. 

Cam.  See  't  shalt  thou  never.     Fellows,  hold  the  chair. 
Upon  these  eyes  of  thine  I  '11  set  my  foot. 

Glou.  He  that  will  think  to  live  till  he  be  old. 

Give  me  some  help!     O  cruel!     O  you  gods!         70 

Reg.  One  side  will  mock  another;  the  other  too. 

Cam.  If  you  see  vengeance — 

First  Serv.  Hold  your  hand,  my  lord: 

I  have  served  you  ever  since  I  was  a  child; 
But  better  service  have  I  never  done  you 
Than  now  to  bid  you  hold. 

Reg.  How  now,  you  dog! 

First  Serv.  If  you  did  wear  a  beard  upon  your  chin, 

I  'Id  shake  it  on  this  quarrel.     What  do  you  mean? 

Cam.  My  villain!  [They  draw  and  fight. 

First  Serv.  Nay,  then,  come  on,  and  take  the  chance  of 
anger. 

Reg.  Give  me  thy  sword.     A  peasant  stand  up  thus!    80 
[  Takes  a  sword  and  runs  at  him  behind. 

First  Serv.  O,  I  am  slain !     Mv  lord,  you  have  one  eye 
left 
To  see  some  mischief  on  him.     O!  [Dies. 

Com.  Lest  it  see  more,  prevent  it.     Out,  vile  jelly! 
Where  is  thy  lustre  now? 
102 


KING  LEAR  Act  III.  Sc.  vii. 

Glou.  All  dark  and  comfortless.     Where  's  my  son  Ed- 
mund? 

Edmund,  enkindle  all  the  sparks  of  nature, 

To  quit  this  horrid  act. 
Reg.  Out,  treacherous  villain! 

Thou  call'st  on  him  that  hates  thee:  it  was  he 

That  made  the  overture  of  thy  treasons  to  us; 

Who  is  too  good  to  pity  thee.  90 

Glou.  O  my  follies!     Then  Edgar  was  abused. 

Kind  gods,  forgive  me  that,  and  prosper  him! 
Reg.  Go  thrust  him  out  at  gates,  and  let  him  smell 

His  way  to  Dover.  [Exit  one  with  Gloucester .1    How 
is  't,  my  lord?  how  look  you? 
Corn.  I  have  received  a  hurt:  follow  me,  lady. 

Turn  out  that  eyeless  villain:  throw  this  slave 

Upon  the  dunghill.     Regan,  I  bleed  apace : 

Untimely  comes  this  hurt:   give  me  your  arm. 

[Exit  Cornwall,  led  by  Regan. 
Sec.  Serv.  I  '11  never  care  what  wickedness  I  do, 

If  this  man  come  to  good. 
Third  Serv.  If  she  live  long,  100 

And  in  the  end  meet  the  old  course  of  death, 

Women  will  all  turn  monsters. 
Sec.  Serv.  Let 's  follow  the  old  earl,  and  get  the  Bedlam 

To  lead  him  where  he  would:  his  roguish  madness 

Allows  itself  to  any  thing. 
Third  Serv.  Go  thou :   I  '11  fetch  some  flax  and  whites  of 
eggs 

To  apply  to  his  bleeding  face.     Now,  heaven  help 
him!  [Exeunt  severally. 


103 


IV.Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

ACT  FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

The  heath. 

Enter  Edgar. 

Edg.  Yet  better  thus,  and  known  to  be  contemn'd, 
Than  still  contemn'd  and  flatter'd.     To  be  worst, 
The  lowest  and  most  dejected  thing  of  fortune, 
Stands  still  in  esperance,  lives  not  in  fear: 
The  lamentable  change  is  from  the  best; 
The  worst  returns  to  laughter.     Welcome  then, 
Thou  unsubstantial  air  that  I  embrace! 
The  wretch  that  thou  hast  blown  unto  the  worst 
Owes  nothing  to  thy  blasts.     But  who  comes  here? 

Enter  Gloucester,  led  by  an  Old  Man. 

My  father,  poorly  led?     World,  world,  O  world! 

But  that  thy  strange  mutations  make  us  hate  thee,  1 1 

Life  would  not  yield  to  age. 
Old  Man.  O,  my  good  lord,  I  have  been  your  tenant, 

and  your  father's  tenant,  these  fourscore  years. 
Glou.  Away,  get  thee  away;  good  friend,  be  gone: 

Thy  comforts  can  do  no  good  at  all; 

Thee  they  may  hurt. 
Old  Man.  Alack,  sir,  you  cannot  see  your  way. 
Glou.  I  have  no  way  and  therefore  want  no  eyes ; 

I  stumbled  when  I  saw :   full  oft  'tis  seen,  20 

Our  means  secure  us,  and  our  mere  defects 

Prove  our  commodities.     Ah,  dear  son  Edgar, 

The  food  of  thy  abused  father's  wrath! 

Might  I  but  live  to  see  thee  in  my  touch, 

i;o4 


KING   LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  i. 

I  'Id  say  I  had  eyes  again! 

Old  Man.  How  now!     Who's  there? 

Edg.   [Aside]  O  gods !     Who  is  't  can  say   '  I  am  at  the 
worst'? 
I  am  worse  than  e'er  I  was. 

Old  Man.  'Tis  poor  mad  Tom. 

Edg.   [Aside]  And  worse  I  may  be  yet:   the  worst  is  not 
'  So  long  as  we  can  say  '  This  is  the  worst.' 

Old  Man.  Fellow,  where  goest? 

Gloii.  Is  it  a  beggar-man?     30 

Old  Man.  Madman  and  beggar  too. 

Glou.  He  has  some  reason,  else  he  could  not  beg. 
r  the  last  night's  storm  I  such  a  fellow  saw, 
Which  made  me  think  a  man  a  worm:  my  son 
Came  then  into  my  mind,  and  yet  my  mind 
Was  then  scarce  friends  with  him :    I  have  heard 

more  since. 
As  flies  to  wanton  boys,  are  we  to  the  gods; 
They  kill  us  for  their  sport. 

Edg.  [Aside]  How  should  this  be? 

Bad  is  the  trade  that  must  play  fool  to  sorrow. 
Angering  itself  and  others.     Bless  thee,  master!  40 

Glou.  Is  that  the  naked  fellow? 

Old  Man.  Ay,  my  lord. 

Glou.  Then,  prithee,  get  thee  gone:   if  for  my  sake 
Thou  wilt  o'ertake  us  hence  a  mile  or  twain 
r  the  way  toward  Dover,  do  it  for  ancient  love; 
And  bring  some  covering  for  this  naked  soul. 
Who  I  '11  entreat  to  lead  me. 

Old  Man.  Alack,  sir,  he  is  mad. 

Glou.  'Tis  the  times'  plague,  when  madmen  lead  the  blind. 
Do  as  I  bid  thee,  or  rather  do  thy  pleasure ; 

105 


Act  IV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Above  the  rest,  be  gone. 

Old  Man.  I  '11  bring  him  the  best  'parel  that  I  have,      50 
Come  on  't  what  will.  [Exit. 

Glou.  Sirrah,  naked  fellow, — 

Edg.  Poor  Tom  's  a-cold.      [Aside]^     I  cannot  daub  it 
further. 

Glou.  Come  hither,  fellow. 

Edg.  [Aside^  And  yet  I  must. — Bless  thy  sweet  eyes,  they 
bleed. 

Glou.  Know'st  thou  the  way  to  Dover? 

Edg.  Both  stile  and  gate,  horse-way  and  foot-path. 
Poor  Tom  hath  been  scared  out  of  his  good 
wits.  Bless  thee,  good  man's  son,  from  the  foul 
fiend!  Five  fiends  have  been  in  poor  Tom  at  60 
once;  of  lust,  as  Obidicut;  Hobbididence, 
prince  of  dumbness;  Mahu,  of  stealing;  Modo, 
of  murder;  Flibbertigibbet,  of  mopping  and 
mowing;  who  since  possesses  chambermaids 
and  waiting-women.     So,  bless  thee,  master! 

Glou.  Here,   take  this   purse,   thou   whom   the  heavens' 
plagues 
Have  humbled  to  all  strokes:   that  1  am  wretched 
Makes  thee  the  happier.     Heavens,  deal  so  still! 
Let  the  superfluous  and  lust-dieted  man, 
That  slaves  your  ordinance,  that  will  not  see        70 
Because  he  doth  not  feel,  feel  your  power  quickly; 
So  distribution  should  undo  excess 
And   each    man   have    enough.     Dost    thou    know 
Dover? 

Edg.  Ay,  master. 

Glou.  There  is  a  clifif  whose  high  and  bending  head 
Looks  fearfully  in  the  confined  deep: 
Bring  me  but  to  the  very  brim  of  it. 
And  I  '11  repair  the  misery  thou  dost  bear 
106 


KING  LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

With  something  rich  about  me:  from  that  place 
I  shall  no  leading  need. 
^j^_  Give  me  thy  arm:  80 

Poor  Tom  shall  lead  thee.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  II. 

Before  the  Ditke  of  Albany's  palace. 
Enter  Goneril  and  Edmund. 

Gon.  Welcome,  my  lord:  I  marvel  our  mild  husband 
Not  met  us  on  the  way. 

Enter  Oswald. 

Now,  Where's  your  master? 

Osw.  Madam,  within;  but  never  man  so  changed. 
I  told  him  of  the  army  that  was  landed; 
He  smiled  at  it:  I  told  him  you  were  coming; 
His   answer   was,     'The   worse':     of    Gloucester's 

treachery 
And  of  the  loyal  service  of  his  son 
When  I  inform'd  him,  then  he  call'd  me  sot 
And  told  me  I  had  turn'd  the  wrong  side  out: 
What  most  he  should  disHke  seems  pleasant  to  him; 
What  like,  offensive.  ^  ^ 

Gon.  [To  Edm.]  Then  shall  you  go  no  further. 

It  is  the  cowish  terror  of  his  spirit, 
That  dares  not  undertake:  he  '11  not  feel  wrongs. 
Which  tie  him  to  an  answer.    Our  wishes  on  the  way 
May  prove  effects.     Back,  Edmund,  to  my  brother; 
Hasten  his  musters  and  conduct  his  powers: 
I  must  change  arms  at  home  and  give  the  distaff 
Into  my  husband's  hands.     This  trusty  servant 
107 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Shall  pass  between  us:  ere  long  you  are  like  to  hear, 
If  you  dare  venture  in  your  own  behalf,  20 

A  mistress's  command.     Wear  this;  spare  speech; 

[Giving  a  favour. 
Decline  your  head:  this  kiss,  if  it  durst  speak, 
Would  stretch  thy  spirits  up  into  the  air: 
Conceive,  and  fare  thee  well. 
Edm,  Yours  in  the  ranks  of  death. 

Gon.  My  most  dear  Gloucester! 

[Exit  Edmund. 
O,  the  difference  of  man  and  man! 
To  thee  a  woman's  services  are  due: 
My  fool  usurps  my  body. 
Osw.  Madam,  here  comes  my  lord. 

[Exit. 
Enter  Albany. 

Gon.  I  have  been  worth  the  whistle. 

Alb.  O  Goneril! 

You  are  not  worth  the  dust  which  the  rude  wind  30 

Blows  in  your  face.     I  fear  your  disposition: 

That  nature  which  contemns  it  origin 

Cannot  be  border'd  certain  in  itself; 

She  that  herself  will  sliver  and  disbranch 

From  her  material  sap,  perforce  must  wither 

And  come  to  deadly  use. 
Gon.  No  more ;  the  text  is  fooHsh. 
Alb.  Wisdom  and  goodness  to  the  vile  seem  vile: 

Filths  savour  but  themselves.    What  have  you  done? 

Tigers,  not  daughters,  what  have  you  perform'd?  40 

A  father,  and  a  gracious  aged  man. 

Whose  reverence  even  the  head-lugg'd  bear  would 
lick. 

Most    barbarous,     most    degenerate!      have    you 
madded. 

108 


KING   LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  ii. 

Could  my  good  brother  suffer  you  to  do  it? 

A  man,  a  prince,  by  him  so  benefited! 

If  that  the  heavens  do  not  their  visible  spirits 

Send  quickly  down  to  tame  these  vile  offences, 

It  will  come, 

Humanity  must  perforce  prey  on  itself, 

Like  monsters  of  the  deep. 

Gon.  Milk-liver'd  man !         50 

That  bear'st  a  cheek  for  blows,  a  head  for  wrongs; 
Who  hast  not  in  thy  brows  an  eye  discerning 
Thine  honour  from  thy  suffering;   that  not  know'st 
Fools  do  those  villains  pity  who  are  punish'd 
Ere  they  have  done  their  mischief.     Where  's  thy 

drum? 
France  spreads  his  banners  in  our  noiseless  land, 
With  plumed  helm  thy  state  begins  to  threat. 
Whiles  thou,  a  moral  fool,  sit'st  still  and  criest 
'Alack,  why  does  he  so?' 

Alb.  See  thyself,  devil! 

Proper  deformity  seems  not  in  the  fiend  60 

So  horrid  as  in  woman. 

Gon.  O  vain  fool! 

Alb.  Thou  changed  and  self-cover'd  thing,  for  shame, 
Be-monster  not  thy  feature.     Were  't  my  fitness 
To  let  these  hands  obey  my  blood. 
They  are  apt  enough  to  dislocate  and  tear 
Thy  flesh  and  bones:   howe'er  thou  art  a  fiend, 
A  woman's  shape  doth  shield  thee. 

Gon.  Marry,  your  manhood!   mew! 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Alb.  What  news? 

Mess.  O,  my  good  lord,  the  Duke  of  Cornwall 's  dead, 

109 


Act  IV.  Sc.  ii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Slain  by  his  servant,  going  to  put  out  71 

The  other  eye  of  Gloucester. 
Alb.  Gloucester's  eyes! 

Mess.  A  servant  that  he  bred,  thrill'd  with  remorse. 

Opposed  against  the  act,  bending  his  sword 

To  his  great  master;   who  thereat  enraged 

Flew  on  him  and  amongst  them  fell'd  him  dead. 

But  not  without  that  harmful  stroke  which  since 

Hath  pluck'd  him  after. 
Alb.  This  shows  you  are  above, 

You  justicers,  that  these  our  nether  crimes 

So  speedily  can  venge.     But,  O  poor  Gloucester! 

Lost  he  his  other  eye? 
Mess.  Both,  both,  my  lord.  81 

This  letter,  madam,  craves  a  speedy  answer; 

'Tis  from  your  sister. 
Gon.  [Aside]  One  way  I  like  this  well; 

But  being  widow,  and  my  Gloucester  with  her, 

May  all  the  building  in  my  fancy  pluck 

Upon  my  hateful  life:   another  way, 

The  news  is  not  so  tart. — I  '11  read,  and  answer. 

[Exit. 
Alb.  Where  was  his  son  when  they  did  take  his  eyes? 
Mess.  Come  with  my  lady  hither. 
Alb.  He  is  not  here. 

Mess.  No,  my  good  lord;    I  met  him  back  again.        90 
Alb.  Knows  he  the  wickedness? 
Mess.  Ay,  my  good  lord;  'twas  he  inform'd  against  him. 

And  quit  the  house  on  purpose,  that  their  punish- 
ment 

Might  have  the  freer  course. 
Alb.  Gloucester,  I  live 

To  thank  thee  for  the  love  thou  show'dst  the  king, 
no 


KING  LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  iii. 

And  to  revenge  thine  eyes.     Come  hither,  friend: 
Tell  me  what  more  thou  know'st.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  III. 

The  French  camp  near  Dover, 
Enter  Kent  and  a  Gentleman. 

Kent.  Why  the  King  of  France  is  so  suddenly  gone 
back  know  you  the  reason? 

Gent.  Something  he  left  imperfect  in  the  state  which 
since  his  coming  forth  is  thought  of,  which  im- 
ports to  the  kingdom  so  much  fear  and  danger 
that  his  personal  return  was  most  required  and 
necessary. 

Kent.  Who  hath  he  left  behind  him  general? 

Gent.  The  Marshal  of  France,  Monsieur  La  Far. 

Kent.  Did  your  letters  pierce  the  queen  to  any  dem-     lo 
onstration  of  grief? 

Gent.  Ay,  sir;  she  took  them,  read  them  in  my  presence, 
And  now  and  then  an  ample  tear  trill'd  down 
Her  delicate  cheek:  it  seem'd  she  was  a  queen 
Over  her  passion,  who  most  rebel-like 
Sought  to  be  king  o'er  her. 

Kent.  O,  then  it  moved  her. 

Gent.  Not  to  a  rage :  patience  and  sorrow  strove 

Who  should  express  her  goodliest.     You  have  seen 
Sunshine  and  rain  at  once:  her  smiles  and  tears 
Were  like  a  better  way :  those  happy  smilets  20 

That  play'd  on  her  ripe  lip  seem'd  not  to  know 
What  guests  were  in  her  eyes;   which  parted  thence 
As  pearls  from  diamonds  dropp'd.     In  brief. 


Act  IV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Sorrow  would  be  a  rarity  most  beloved, 
If  all  could  so  become  it. 

Kent.  Made  she  no  verbal  question? 

Gent.  Faith,    once   or   twice    she   heaved   the   name    of 
'  father ' 
Pantingly  forth,  as  if  it  press'd  her  heart; 
Cried  '  Sisters!  sisters!     Shame  of  ladies!   sisters! 
Kent !    father !    sisters  !     What,  i'  the  storm  ?    i'  the 

night? 
Let  pity  not  be  believed !  '     There  she  shook  30 

The  holy  water  from  her  heavenly  eyes, 
And  clamour  moisten'd:  then  away  she  started 
To  deal  with  grief  alone. 

Kent.  It  is  the  stars. 

The  stars  above  us,  govern  our  conditions; 
Else  one  self  mate  and  mate  could  not  beget 
Such   different   issues.     You   spoke    not   with   her 
since? 

Gent.  No. 

Kent.  Was  this  before  the  king  return'd? 

Gent.  No,  since. 

Ke7tt.  Well,  sir,  the  poor  distress'd  Lear's  i'  the  town; 
Who  sometime  in  his  better  tune  remembers        40 
What  we  are  come  about,  and  by  no  means 
Will  yield  to  see  his  daughter. 

Gmt.  Why,  good  sir? 

Kent.  A  sovereign  shame  so  elbows  him :    his  own  un- 
kindness 
That  stripp'd  her  from  his  benediction,  turn'd  her 
To  foreign  casualties,  gave  her  dear  rights 
To  his  dog-hearted  daughters :  these  things  sting 
His  mind  so  venomously  that  burning  shame 
Detains  him  from  Cordelia. 

Ge}it.  Alack,  poor  gentleman! 

Kent.  Of  Albany's  and  Cornwall's  powers  you  heard  not? 

112 


KING   LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  iv. 

Gent.  'Tis  so ;  they  are  afoot.  50 

Kent.  Well,  sir,  I  '11  bring  you  to  our  master  Lear, 
And  leave  you  to  attend  him:   some  dear  cause 
Will  in  concealment  wrap  me  up  awhile; 
When  I  am  known  aright,  you  shall  not  grieve 
Lending  me  this  acquaintance.     I  pray  you,  go 
Along  with  me.  [ExeurU. 


Scene   IV. 

The  same.     A  tent. 

Enter,  with  drum  and  colours,  Cordelia,  Doctor, 
and  Soldiers. 

Cor.  Alack,  'tis  he:  why,  he  was  met  even  now 
As  mad  as  the  vex'd  sea;  singing  aloud; 
Crown'd  with  rank  fumiter  and  furrow-weeds, 
With  bur-docks,  hemlock,  nettles,  cuckoo-flowers, 
Darnel,  and  all  the  idle  weeds  that  grow 
In  our  sustaining  corn.     A  century  send  forth; 
Search  every  acre  in  the  high-grown  field, 
And  bring  him  to  our  eye.     [Exit  an  officer]     What 

can  man's  wisdom 
In  the  restoring  his  bereaved  sense? 
He  that  helps  him  take  all  my  outward  worth.       10 

Doct.  There  is  means,  madam: 

Our  foster-nurse  of  nature  is  repose. 
The  which  he  lacks:  that  to  provoke  in  him, 
Are  many  simples  operative,  whose  power 
Will  close  the  eye  of  anguish. 

(^^y^  All  blest  secrets. 

All  you  unpublish'd  virtues  of  the  earth, 
Spring  with  my  tears!   be  aidant  and  remediate 

113 


Act  IV.  Sc.  V.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

In  the  good  man's  distress!     Seek,  seek  for  him; 
Lest  his  ungovern'd  rage  dissolve  the  hfe 
That  wants  the  means  to  lead  it. 

Enter  a  Messenger. 

Mess.  News,  madam;     20 

The  British  powers  are  marching  hitherward. 

Cor.  'Tis  known  before;   our  preparation  stands 
In  expectation  of  them.     O  dear  father, 
It  is  thy  business  that  I  go  about; 
Therefore  great  France 

My  mourning  and  important  tears  hath  pitied. 
No  blown  ambition  doth  our  arms  incite, 
But  love,  dear  love,  and  our  aged  father's  right: 
Soon  may  I  hear  and  see  him!  [Exeunt. 

Scene  V. 

Gloucester's  castle. 
Enter  Regan  and  Oswald. 

Reg.  But  are  my  brother's  powers  set  forth? 

Osw.  Ay,  madam. 

Reg.  Himself  in  person  there? 

Osw.  Madam,  with  much  ado: 

Your  sister  is  the  better  soldier. 

Reg.  Lord  Edmund  spake  not  with  your  lord  at  home? 

Osw.  No,  madam. 

Reg.  What  might  import  my  sister's  letter  to  him? 

Osw.  I  know  not,  lady. 

Reg.  Faith,  he  is  posted  hence  on  serious  matter. 

It  was  great  ignorance,  Gloucester's  eyes  being  out. 
To  let  him  live:   where  he  arrives  he  moves  10 

All  hearts  against  us:  Edmund,  I  think,  is  gone, 

114 


KING   LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  v. 

In  pity  of  his  misery,  to  dispatch 
His  nighted  Hfe;   moreover,  to  descry 
The  strength  o'  the  enemy. 

Osw.  I  must  needs  after  him,  madam,  with  my  letter. 

Reg.  Our  troops  set  forth  to-morrow:   stay  with  us; 
The  ways  are  dangerous. 

Osw.  I  may  not,  madam: 

My  lady  charged  my  duty  in  this  business. 

Reg.  Why  should  she  write  to  Edmund?     Might  not  you 
Transport  her  purposes  by  word?     Belike,  20 

Something — I  know  not  what:   I  '11  love  thee  much, 
Let  me  unseal  the  letter. 

Osw.  Madam,  I  had  rather — 

Reg.  I  know  your  lady  does  not  love  her  husband; 
I  am  sure  of  that:  and  at  her  late  being  here 
She  gave  strange  oeillades  and  most  speaking  looks 
To  noble  Edmund.     I  know  you  are  of  her  bosom. 

Osw.  1,  madam? 

Reg.  I  speak  in  understanding:   you  are;   I  know't: 
Therefore  I  do  advise  you,  take  this  note: 
My  lord  is  dead;   Edmund  and  I  have  talk'd;        30 
And  more  convenient  is  he  for  my  hand 
Than  for  your  lady's :   you  may  gather  more. 
If  you  do  find  him,  pray  you,  give  him  this; 
And  when  your  mistress  hears  thus  much  from  you, 
I  pray,  desire  her  call  her  wisdom  to  her. 
So,  fare  you  well. 

If  you  do  chance  to  hear  of  that  blind  traitor, 
Preferment  falls  on  him  that  cuts  him  ofif. 

Osw.  Would  I  could  meet  him,  madam!   I  should  show 
What  party  I  do  follow. 

Reg,  Fare  thee  well.     [Exeunt.  40 

IIS 


ActlV.  Sc.  vi.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  VI. 

Fields  near  Dover. 
Enter  Gloucester,  and  Edgar  dressed  like  a  peasant. 

Glou.  When  shall  we  come  to  the  top  of  that  same  hill? 

Edg.  You  do  climb  up  it  now:  look,  how  we  labour. 

Glou.  Methinks  the  ground  is  even. 

Edg.  Horrible  steep. 

Hark,  do  you  hear  the  sea? 

Glou.  No,  truly. 

Edg.  Why  then  your  other  senses  grow  imperfect 
By  your  eyes'  anguish. 

Glou.  So  may  it  be  indeed : 

Methinks  thy  voice  is  alter'd,  and  thou  speak'st 
In  better  phrase  and  matter  than  thou  didst. 

Edg.  You  're  much  deceived:   in  nothing  am  I  changed 
But  in  my  garments. 

Glou.  Methinks  you  're  better  spoken. 

Edg.  Come  on,  sir ;   here  's  the  place :   stand  still.     How 
fearful  1 1 

And  dizzy  'tis  to  cast  one's  eyes  so  low! 
The  crows  and  choughs  that  wing  the  midway  air 
Show  scarce  so  gross  as  beetles:   half  way  down 
Hangs  one  that  gathers  samphire,  dreadful  trade! 
Methinks  he  seems  no  bigger  than  his  head: 
The  fishermen  that  walk  upon  the  beach 
Appear  Hke  mice;  and  yond  tall  anchoring  bark 
Diminish'd  to  her  cock;  her  cock,  a  buoy 
Almost  too  small  for  sight :  the  murmuring  surge  20 
That  on  the  unnumber'd  idle  pebbles  chafes 
Cannot  be  heard  so  high.     I  '11  look  no  more, 
116 


KING   LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  vi. 

Lest  my  brain  turn  and  the  deficient  sight 

Topple  down  headlong. 
Glou.  Set  me  where  you  stand. 

Edg.  Give  me  your  hand:  you  are  now  within  a  foot 

Of  the  extreme  verge:  for  all  beneath  the  moon 

Would  I  not  leap  upright. 

Glou.  Let  go  my  hand. 

Here,  friend,  's  another  purse;   in  it  a  jewel 
Well  worth  a  poor  man's  taking:   fairies  and  gods 
Prosper  it  with  thee!     Go  thou  further  off;  30 

Bid  me  farewell,  and  let  me  hear  thee  going. 

Edg.  Now  fare  you  well,  good  sir. 
Glou.  With  all  my  heart. 

Edg.  Why  I  do  trifle  thus  with  his  despair 
Is  done  to  cure  it. 

Glou.   [Kneeling']  O  you  mighty  gods! 

This  world  I  do  renounce,  and  in  your  sights 

Shake  patiently  my  great  affliction  ofi: 

If  I  could  bear  it  longer  and  not  fall 

To  quarrel  with  your  great  opposeless  wills, 

My  snuff  and  loathed  part  of  nature  should 

Burn  itself  out.     If  Edgar  live,  O  bless  him!        40 

Now,  fellow,  fare  thee  well.  [He  falls  forward. 

Edg.  Gone,  sir:   farewell. 

And  yet  I  know  not  how  conceit  may  rob 

The  treasury  of  hfe,  when  hfe  itself 

Yields  to  the  theft:  had  he  been  where  he  thought, 

By  this  had  thought  been  past.     Alive  or  dead? 

Ho,  you  sir  !   friend  !    Hear  you,  sir !   speak  I 

Thus  might  he  pass  indeed:   yet  he  revives. 

What  are  you,  sir? 
Glou.  Away,  and  let  me  die. 

117 


Act  IV.  Sc.  vi.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Edg.  Hadst  thou  been  aught  but  gossamer,  feathers,  air. 
So  many  fathom  down  precipitating,  50 

Thou 'dst    shiver'd    Hke    an    tgg\     but    thou    dost 

breathe; 
Hast  heavy  substance;    bleed'st  not;    speak'st;    art 

sound. 
Ten  masts  at  each  make  not  the  altitude 
Which  thou  hast  perpendicularly  fell: 
Thy  life  's  a  miracle.     Speak  yet  again. 

GlovL  But  have  I  fall'n,  or  no? 

Edg.  From  the  dread  summit  of  this  chalky  bourn. 
Look  up  a-height;  the  shrill-gorged  lark  so  far 
Cannot  be  seen  or  heard:   do  but  look  up. 

Glou.  Alack,  I  have  no  eyes,  60 

Is  wretchedness  deprived  that  benefit, 
To  end  itself  by  death  ?    'Twas  yet  some  comfort, 
When  misery  could  beguile  the  tyrant's  rage 
And  frustrate  his  proud  will. 

Edg.  Give  me  your  arm : 

Up :    so.     How   is 't  ?     Feel   you   your   legs  ?     You 
stand. 

Gloii.  Too  well,  too  well. 

Edg.  This  is  above  all  strangeness. 

Upon  the  crown  o'  the  cliff,  what  thing  was  that 
Which  parted  from  you? 

Glou.  A  poor  unfortunate  beggar. 

Edg.  As  I  stood  here  below,  methought  his  eyes 

Were  two  full  moons;   he  had  a  thousand  noses,  70 
Horns  whelk'd  and  waved  like  the  enridged  sea: 
It  was  some  fiend;   therefore,  thou  happy  father. 
Think  that  the  clearest  gods,  who  make  them  hon- 
ours 
Of  men's  impossibilities,  have  preserved  thee. 

Glou.  I  do  remember  now:  henceforth  I  '11  bear 
Affliction  till  it  do  cry  out  itself 
118 


KING   LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  vi. 

'  Enougl^  enough,'  and  die.  That  thing  you  speak  of 
I  took  it  for  a  man;   often  'twould  say 

*  The  fiend,  the  fiend  ':   he  led  me  to  that  place. 
Edg.  Bear  free  and  patient  thoughts.      But  who  comes 

here?  80 

Enter  Lear,  fantastically  dressed  zvith  wild  flowers. 

The  safer  sense  will  ne'er  accommodate 
His  master  thus. 

Lear.  No,  they  cannot  touch  me  for  coining;   I  am 
the  king  himself. 

Edg.  ^O  thou  side-piercing  sight! 

Lear.  Nature  's  above  art  in  that  respect.  There 's 
your  press-money.  That  fellow  handles  his  bow 
like  a  crow-keeper;  draw  me  a  clothier's  yard. 
Look,  look,  a  mouse!  Peace,  peace;  this  piece 
of  toasted  cheese  will  do  't.  There  's  my  gaunt-  90 
let;  I'll  prove  it  on  a  giant.  Bring  up  the 
brown  bills.  O,  well  flown,  bird!  i'  the  clout,  i' 
the  clout :  hewgh !     Give  the  word. 

Edg.  Sweet  marjoram. 

Lear.  Pass. 

Glou.  I  know  that  voice. 

Lear.  Ha!  Goneril,  with  a  white  beard!  They 
flattered  me  like  a  dog,  and  told  me  I  had  white 
hairs  in  my  beard  ere  the  black  ones  were  there. 
To  say  '  ay  '  and  '  no  '  to  everything  that  I  said!   100 

*  Ay  '  and  '  no  '  too  was  no  good  divinity.  When 
the  rain  came  to  wet  me  once  and  the  wind  to 
make  me  chatter;  when  the  thunder  would  not 
peace  at  my  bidding;  there  I  found  'em,  there  I 
smelt  'em  out.     Go  to,  they  are  not  men  o'  their 

119 


ActlV.  Sc.  vi.  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

words:   they  told  me  I  was  every  thing;   'tis  a 
lie,  I  am  not  ague-proof. 

Glou.  The  trick  of  that  voice  I  do  well  remember: 
Is  't  not  the  king? 

Lear.  Ay,  every  inch  a  king: 

When  I  do  stare,  see  how  the  subject  quakes.       no 
I  pardon  that  man's  life.     What  was  thy  cause? 
Adultery? 

Thou  shalt  not  die:   die  for  adultery!     No: 
The  wren  goes  to  't,  and  the  small  gilded  fly 
Does  lecher  in  my  sight. 

Let  copulation  thrive;  for  Gloucester's  bastard  son 
Was  kinder  to  his  father  than  my  daughters 
Got  'tween  the  lawful  sheets. 
To 't,  luxury,  pell-mell!    for  I  lack  soldiers. 
Behold  yond  simpering  dame,  120 

Whose  face  between  her  forks  presages  snow. 
That  minces  virtue  and  does  shake  the  head 
To  hear  of  pleasure's  name; 
The  fitchew,  nor  the  soiled  horse,  goes  to  't 
With  a  more  riotous  appetite. 
Down  from  the  waist  they  are  Centaurs, 
Though  women  all  above: 
But  to  the  girdle  do  the  gods  inherit. 
Beneath  is  all  the  fiends'; 

There  's  hell,  there  's  darkness,  there  's  the  sulphur- 
ous pit,  130 
Burning,  scalding,  stench,  consumption;   fie,  fie, 
fie!  pah,  pah!     Give  me  an  ounce  of  civet,  good 
apothecary,  to  sweeten  my  imagination :   there  's 
money  for  thee. 
Glou.  O,  let  me  kiss  that  hand ! 

120 


KING   LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  vi. 

Lear.  Let  me  wipe  it  first;  it  smells  of  mortality. 

Gioii.  O  ruin'd  piece  of  nature!     This  great  world 

Shall  so  wear  out  to  nought.     Dost  thou  know  me? 

Lear.  I  remember  thine  eyes  well  enough.     Dost 

thou  squiny  at  me?     No,  do  thy  worst,  blind  140 
Cupid ;  I  '11  not  love.     Read  thou  this  challenge  ; 
mark  but  the  penning  on  't. 

Gloii.  Were  all  the  letters  suns,  I  could  not  see  one. 

Edg.  I  would  not  take  this  from  report:   it  is, 
And  my  heart  breaks  at  it. 

Lear.  Read. 

Gloti.  What,  with  the  case  of  eyes? 

Lear.  O,  ho,  are  you  there  with  me?     No  eyes  in 
your  head,  nor  no  money  in  your  purse?     Your 
eyes  are  in  a  heavy  case,  your  purse  in  a  light:  150 
yet  you  see  how  this  world  goes. 

Clou.  I  see  it  feelingly. 

Lear.  What,  art  mad?  A  man  may  see  how  this 
world  goes  with  no  eyes.  Look  with  thine 
ears:  see  how  yond  justice  rails  upon  yond 
simple  thief.  Hark,  in  thine  ear:  change 
places,  and,  handy-dandy,  which  is  the  justice, 
which  is  the  thief?  Thou  hast  seen  a  farmer's 
dog  bark  at  a  beggar? 

Glou.  Ay,  sir.  160 

Lear.  And  the  creature  run  from  the  cur?     There 
thou  mightst  behold  the  great  image  of  author- 
ity:  a  dog's  obeyed  in  office. 
Thou  rascal  beadle,  hold  thy  bloody  hand! 
Why  dost  thou  lash  that  whore?     Strip  thine  own 

back; 
Thou  hotly  lust'st  to  use  her  in  that  kind 

121 


Act  IV.  Sc.  vi.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

For  which  thou  whip'st  her.     The  usurer  hangs  the 

cozener. 
Through  tatter'd  clothes  small  vices  do  appear; 
Robes  and  furr'd  gowns  hide  all.  Plate  sin  with  gold, 
And  the  strong  lance  of  justice  hurtless  breaks;  170 
Arm  it  in  rags,  a  pigmy's  straw  does  pierce  it. 
None  does  offend,  none,  I  say,  none ;   I  '11  able  'em : 
Take  that  of  me,  my  friend,  who  have  the  power 
To  seal  the  accuser's  lips.     Get  thee  glass  eyes, 
And,  Hke  a  scurvy  politician,  seem 
To  see  the  things  thou  dost  not. 
Now,  now,  now,  now:  pull  off  my  boots:  harder 
harder,  so. 

Edg.  O,  matter  and  impertinency  mix'd! 
Reason  in  madness ! 

Lear.  If  thou  wilt  weep  my  fortunes,  take  my  eyes.     180 
I  know  thee  well  enough;   thy  name  is  Gloucester: 
Thou  must  be  patient;   we  came  crying  hither: 
Thou  know'st,  the  first  time  that  we  smell  the  air. 
We  wawl  and  cry.     I  will  preach  to  thee:   mark. 

Gloii.  Alack,  alack  the  day! 

Lear,  When  we  are  born,  we  cry  that  we  are  come 

To  this  great  stage  of  fools.     This  's  a  good  block. 
It  were  a  delicate  stratagem,  to  shoe 
A  troop  of  horse  with  felt:   I  '11  put 't  in  proof  ; 
And  when  I  have  stol'n  upon  these  sons-in-law,  190 
»  Then,  kill,  kill,  kill,  kill,  kill,  kill! 

Enter  a  Gentleman,  with  Attendants. 

Gent.  O,  here  he  is:   lay  hand  upon  him.     Sir, 

Your  most  dear  daughter — 
Lear.  No  rescue?    What,  a  prisoner?     I  am  even 

122 


KING   LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  vi. 

The  natural  fool  of  fortune.     Use  me  well; 

You  shall  have  ransom.     Let  me  have  a  surgeon; 

I  am  cut  to  the  brains. 
Gent.  You  shall  have  any  thing. 

Lear.  No  seconds?   all  myself? 

Why,  this  would  make  a  man  a  man  of  salt, 

To  use  his  eyes  for  garden  water-pots,  200 

Aye,  and  laying  autumn's  dust. 
Gent.  Good  sir, — 
Lear.  I  will  die  bravely,  like  a  smug  bridegroom.    What! 

I  will  be  jovial:    come,  come;    I  am  a  king, 

My  masters,  know  you  that. 
Gent.  You  are  a  royal  one,  and  we  obey  you. 
Lear.  Then  there  's  life  in  it.     Nay,  an  you  get  it, 

you  shall  get  it  by  running.    Sa,  sa,  sa,  sa. 

[Exit  running;   Attendants  follow. 
Gent.  A  sight  most  pitiful  in  the  meanest  wretch, 

Past  speaking  of  in  a  king !  Thou  hast  one  daughter. 

Who  redeems  nature  from  the  general  curse         210 

Which  twain  have  brought  her  to. 
Edg.  Hail,  gentle  sir. 

Gent.  Sir,  speed  you:   what  's  your  will? 

Edg.  Do  you  hear  aught,  sir,  of  a  battle  toward? 
Gent.  Most  sure  and  vulgar:  every  one  hears  that, 

Which  can  distinguish  sound. 
Edg.  But,  by  your  favour. 

How  near  's  the  other  army? 
Gent.  Near  and  on  speedy  foot ;   the  main  descry 

Stands  on  the  hourly  thought. 
Edg.  I  thank  you,  sir;  that 's  all. 

Gent.  Though  that  the  queen  on  special  cause  is  here. 

Her  army  is  moved  on. 

123 


Act  IV.  Sc.  vi.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Edg.  I  thank  you,  sir.     [Exit  Gent.  220 

Glou.  You  ever-gentle  gods,  take  my  breath  from  me ; 

Let  not  my  worser  spirit  tempt  me  again 

To  die  before  you  please! 
Edg.  Well  pray  you,  father. 

Glou.  Now,  good  sir,  what  are  you? 
Edg.  A  most  poor  man,  made  tame  to  fortune's  blows; 

Who,  by  the  art  of  known  and  feeling  sorrows, 

Am  pregnant  to  good  pity.    Give  me  your  hand, 

I  '11  lead  you  to  some  biding. 
Glou.  Hearty  thanks; 

The  bounty  and  the  benison  of  heaven 

To  boot,  and  boot ! 

Enter  Oswald. 

Osw.  A  proclaim'd  prize!     Most  happy! 

That  eyeless  head  of  thine  was  first  framed  flesh  231 
To  raise  my  fortunes.    Thou  old  unhappy  traitor. 
Briefly  thyself  remember :   the  sword  is  out 
That  must  destroy  thee. 

Glou.  Now  let  thy  friendly  hand 

Put  strength  enough  to  't.  [Edgar  interposes. 

Wherefore,  bold  peasant. 
Barest  thou  support  a  publish'd  traitor?   Hence! 
Lest  that  the  infection  of  his  fortune  take 
Like  hold  on  thee.     Let  go  his  arm. 

Edg.  Chill  not  let  go,  zir,  without  vurther  'casion. 

Osw.  Let  go,  slave,  or  thou  diest!  *      240 

Edg.  Good  gentleman,  go  your  gait,  and  let  poor 
folk  pass.  An  chud  ha'  been  zwaggered  out  of 
my  life,  'twould  not  ha'  been  zo  long  as  'tis  by 
a  fortnight.     Nay,  come  not  near  th'  old  man; 

124 


KING  LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  vi. 

keep  out,  che  vor  ye,  or  I  'se  try  whether  your 
costard  or  my  hallow  be  the  harder:  chill  be 
plain  with  you. 

Osw.  Out,  dunghill!  [They  fight 

Edg.  Chill  pick  your  teeth,  zir:   come;   no  matter  vor 
your  foins.  [Oszvald  falls. 

Osw,  Slave,  thou  hast  slain  me.     Villain  take  my  purse : 
If  ever  thou  wilt  thrive,  bury  my  body  ;  251 

And  give  the  letters  which  thou  find'st  about  me 
To  Edmund  earl  of  Gloucester;   seek  him  out 
Upon  the  British  party.    O,  untimely  death! 
Death !  [Dies, 

Edg.  I  know  thee  well :  a  serviceable  villain, 
As  duteous  to  the  vices  of  thy  mistress 
As  badness  would  desire. 

Glou.  What,  is  he  dead? 

Edg.  Sit  you  down,  father;   rest  you. 

Let 's  see  these  pockets  :  the  letters  that  he  speaks  of 
May  be  my  friends.  He's  dead;  I  am  only  sorry  261 
He  had  no  other  deathsman.    Let  us  see: 
Leave,  gentle  wax ;   and,  manners,  blame  us  not : 
To  know  our  enemies'  minds,  we  'Id  rip  their  hearts; 
Their  papers,  is  more  lawful. 

[Reads]  '  Let  our  reciprocal  vows  be  remembered. 
You  have  many  opportunities  to  cut  him  off ;  if 
your  will  want  not,  time  and  place  will  be  fruit- 
fully offered.  There  is  nothing  done,  if  he  re- 
turn the  conqueror:  then  am  I  the  prisoner,  and  270 
his  bed  my  gaol ;  from  the  loathed  warmth 
whereof  deliver  me,  and  supply  the  place  for 
your  labour. 

'  Your — wife,  so  I  would  say — 
'  affectionate  servant, 

*  GONERIL.' 

125 


Act.  IV.  Sc.  vii.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

0  undistingiiish'd  space  of  woman's  will! 
A  plot  upon  her  virtuous  husband's  life; 

And  the  exchange  my  brother!   Here,  in  the  sands, 

Thee  I  '11  rake  up,  the  post  unsanctified 

Of  murderous  lechers ;  and  in  the  mature  time       280 

With  this  ungracious  paper  strike  the  sight 

Of  the  death-practised  duke :   for  him  'tis  well 

That  of  thy  death  and  business  I  can  tell. 

Glou.  The  king  is  mad :   how  stiff  is  my  vile  sense. 
That  I  stand  up,  and  have  ingenious  feeUng 
Of  my  huge  sorrows!  Better  I  were  distract: 
So  should  my  thoughts  be  sever'd  from  my  griefs. 
And  woes  by  wrong  imaginations  lose 
The  knowledge  of  themselves.  [Drum  afar  off. 

Edg.  Give  me  your  hand: 

Far  off,  methinks,  I  hear  the  beaten  drum:  290 

Come,  father,  I  '11  bestow  you  with  a  friend.  [Exeunt. 

Scene  VII. 

A  tent  in  the  French  camp.     Lear  on  a  bed  asleep,  soft  music 
playing;  Gentlemen,  and  others  attending. 

Enter  Cordelia,  Kent,  and  Doctor. 

Cor.  O  thou  good  Kent,  how  shall  I  live  and  work. 

To  match  thy  goodness?    My  Hfe  will  be  too  short, 

And  every  measure  fail  me. 
Kent.  To  be  acknowledged,  madam,  is  o'erpaid. 

All  my  reports  go  with  the  modest  truth, 

Nor  more  nor  clipp'd,  but  so. 
Cor.  Be  better  suited: 

These  weeds  are  memories  of  those  worser  hours: 

1  prithee,  put  them  off. 

126 


KING   LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  vii. 

Kent.  Pardon  me,  dear  madam; 

Yet  to  be  known  shortens  my  made  intent: 

My  boon  I  make  it,  that  you  know  me  not  lo 

Till  time  and  I  think  meet. 
Cor.  Then  be  't  so,  my  good  lord.    [To  the  Doctor]    How 

does  the  king? 
Doct.  Madam,  sleeps  still. 
Cor.  O  you  kind  gods, 

Cure  this  great  breach  in  his  abused  nature! 

The  untuned  and  jarring  senses,  O,  wind  up 

Of  this  child-changed  father! 
Doct.  So  please  your  majesty 

That  we  may  wake  the  king:  he  hath  slept  long. 
Cor.  Be  govern'd  by  your  knowledge,  and  proceed 

r  the  sway  of  your  own  will.    Is  he  array'd?         20 
Gent.  Ay,  madam;   in  the  heaviness  of  his  sleep 

We  put  fresh  garments  on  him. 
Doct.  Be  by,  good  madam,  when  we  do  awake  him; 

I  doubt  not  of  his  temperance. 
Cor.  Very  well. 

Doct.  Please  you,  draw  near.    Louder  the  music  there! 
Cor.  O  my  dear  father!   Restoration  hang 

Thy  medicine  on  my  lips,  and  let  this  kiss 

Repair  those  violent  harms  that  my  two  sisters 

Have  in  thy  reverence  made! 
Kent.  Kind  and  dear  princess ! 

Cor.  Had  you  not  been  their  father,  these  white  flakes  30 

Had  challenged  pity  of  them.     Was  this  a  face 

To  be  opposed  against  the  warring  winds? 

To  stand  against  the  deep  dread-bolted  thunder? 

In  the  most  terrible  and  nimble  stroke 

Of  quick,  cross  lightning?  to  watch — poor  perdu! — 

127 


Act  IV.  Sc.  vii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

With  this  thine  helm?     Mine  enemy's  dog, 

Though  he  had  bit  me,  should  have  stood  that  night 

Against  my  fire;   and  wast  thou  fain,  poor  father, 

To  hovel  thee  with  swine  and  rogues  forlorn. 

In  short  and  musty  straw?    Alack,  alack!  40 

'Tis  wonder  that  thy  life  and  wits  at  once 

Had  not  concluded  all.     He  wakes;   speak  to  him. 

Doct.  Madam,  do  you;   'tis  fittest. 

Cor.    How  does  my  royal  lord?   How  fares  your  majesty? 

Lear.  You  do  me  wrong  to  take  me  out  o'  the  grave: 
Thou  art  a  soul  in  bliss;  but  I  am  bound 
Upon  a  wheel  of  fire,  that  mine  own  tears 
Do  scald  like  molten  lead. 

Cor.  Sir,  do  you  know  me  ? 

Lear.  You  are  a  spirit,  I  know:   when  did  you  die? 
Cor.  Still,  still,  far  wide!  5° 

Doct.  He  's  scarce  awake:   let  him  alone  awhile. 
Lear.  Where  have  I  been?  Where  am  I?   Fair  daylight? 

I  am  mightily  abused.     I  should  e'en  die  with  pity. 

To  see  another  thus.     I  know  not  what  to  say. 

I  will  not  swear  these  are  my  hands:   let 's  see ; 

I  feel  this  pin  prick.    Would  I  were  assured 

Of  my  condition! 

Cor.  O,  look  upon  me,  sir, 

And  hold  your  hands  in  benediction  o'er  me. 

No,  sir,  you  must  not  kneel. 
Lear.  Pray,  do  not  mock  me: 

I  am  a  very  foolish  fond  old  man,  60 

Fourscore  and  upward,  not  an  hour  more  nor  less; 

And,  to  deal  plainly, 

I  fear  I  am  not  in  my  perfect  mind. 

Methinks  I  should  know  you  and  know  this  man; 

128 


KING  LEAR  Act  IV.  Sc.  vii. 

Yet  I  am  doubtful;   for  I  am  mainly  ignorant 
What  place  this  is,  and  all  the  skill  I  have 
Remembers  not  these  garments,  nor  I  know  not 
Where  I  did  lodge  last  night.     Do  not  laugh  at  me; 
For,  as  I  am  a  man,  I  think  this  lady 
To  be  my  child  Cordelia. 

Cor.  And  so  I  am,  I  am.  70 

Lear.  Be  your  tears  wet?   yes,  faith.     I  pray,  weep  not: 
If  you  have  poison  for  me,  I  will  drink  it. 
I  know  you  do  not  love  me;   for  your  sisters 
Have,  as  I  do  remember,  done  me  wrong: 
You  have  some  cause,  they  have  not. 

Cor.  No  cause,  no  cause. 

Lear.  Am  I  in  France? 

Kent.  In  your  own  kingdom,  sir. 

Lear.  Do  not  abuse  me. 

Doct.  Be  comforted,  good  madam:   the  great  rage, 
You  see,  is  kill'd  in  him:    and  yet  it  is  danger 
To  make  him  even  o'er  the  time  he  has  lost.         80 
Desire  him  to  go  in;  trouble  him  no  more 
Till  further  settling. 

Cor.  Will  't  please  your  highness  walk? 

Lear.  You  must  bear  with  me. 

Pray  you  now,  forget  and  forgive:    I  am  old  and 

foolish.  [Exeunt  all  but  Kent  and  Gentleman. 

Gent.  Holds  it  true,  sir,  that  the  Duke  of  Cornwall 
was  so  slain  ? 

Kent.  Most  certain,  sir. 

Gent.  Who  is  conductor  of  his  people? 

Kent.  As  'tis  said,  the  bastard  son  of  Gloucester. 

Gent.  They  say  Edgar,  his  banished  son,  is  with  the     90 
Earl  of  Kent  in  Germany. 
129 


ActV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Kent  Report  is  changeable.  'Tis  time  to  look 
about;  the  powers  of  the  kingdom  ap- 
proach apace. 

Gent.  The  arbitrement  is  like  to  be  bloody.     Fare 

you  well,  sir.  [Exit. 

Kent.  My  point  and  period  will  be  thoroughly  wrought, 
Or  well  or  ill,  as  this  day's  battle  's  fought.     [Exit, 

ACT    FIFTH. 

Scene  I. 

The  British  camp  near  Dover. 

Enter,  with  drum  and  colours,  Edmund,  RegaUy 
Gentlemen,  and  Soldiers. 

Edm.  Know  of  the  duke  if  his  last  purpose  hold, 
Or  whether  since  he  is  advised  by  aught 
To  change  the  course:  he  's  full  of  alteration 
And  self-reproving:   bring  his  constant  pleasure. 

[To  a  Gentleman,  who  goes  out. 

Reg.  Our  sister's  man  is  certainly  miscarried. 

Edm.  Tis  to  be  doubted,  madam. 

Reg.  Now,  sweet  lord, 

You  know  the  goodness  I  intend  upon  you: 
Tell  me,  but  truly,  but  then  speak  the  truth, 
Do  you  not  love  my  sister? 

Edm.  In  honour'd  love. 

Reg.  But  have  you  never  found  my  brother's  way         lo 
To  the  forf ended  place? 

Edm.  That  thought  abuses  you. 

Reg.  I  am  doubtful  that  you  have  been  conjunct 
And  bosom'd  with  her,  as  far  as  we  call  hers. 

Edm.  No,  by  mine  honour,  madam. 

130 


KING   LEAR  Act  V.  Sc.  i. 

Reg.  I  never  shall  endure  her:   dear  my  lord, 

Be  not  familiar  with  her. 
Edm.  Fear  me  not. — 

She  and  the  duke  her  husband! 

Enter,  with  drum  and  colours,  Albany,  Goneril, 
and  Soldiers. 

Gon.   l^Aside]    I  had  rather  lose  the  battle  than  that  sister 
Should  loosen  him  and  me. 

Alh.  Our  very  loving  sister,  well  be-met.  20 

Sir,  this  I  hear;   the  king  is  come  to  his  daughter, 
With  others  whom  the  rigour  of  our  state 
Forced  to  cry  out.    Where  I  could  not  be  honest, 
I  never  yet  was  valiant:   for  this  business, 
It  toucheth  us,  as  France  invades  our  land, 
Not  holds  the  king,  with  others,  whom,  I  fear. 
Most  just  and  heavy  causes  make  oppose. 

Edm.  Sir,  you  speak  nobly. 

Reg.  Why  is  this  reasoned? 

Gon.  Combine  together  'gainst  the  enemy; 

For  these  domestic  and  particular  broils  30 

Are  not  the  question  here. 

Alh.  Let 's  then  determine 

With  the  ancient  of  war  on  our  proceedings. 

Edm.  I  shall  attend  you  presently  at  your  tent. 

Reg.  Sister,  you  '11  go  with  us? 

Gon.  No. 

Reg.  'Tis  most  convenient;   pray  you,  go  with  us. 

Gon.   \_Aside'\  O,  ho,  I  know  the  riddle. — I  will  go. 

As  they  arc  going  out,  enter  Edgar  disguised. 

Edg.  If  e'er  your  grace  had  speech  with  man  so  poor, 
Hear  me  one  word. 

131 


ActV.  Sc.  i.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Alb.  I  '11  overtake  you.    Speak. 

[Exeunt  all  but  Albany  and  Edgar. 

Edg.  Before  you  fight  the  battle,  ope  this  letter.         40 
If  you  have  victory,  let  the  trumpet  sound 
For  him  that  brought  it:   wretched  though  I  seem, 
I  can  produce  a  champion  that  will  prove 
What  is  avouched  there.     If  you  miscarry, 
Your  business  of  the  world  hath  so  an  end, 
And  machination  ceases.     Fortune  love  you! 

Alb.  Stay  till  I  have  read  the  letter. 

Edg.  I  was  forbid  it. 

When  time  shall  serve,  let  but  the  herald  cry, 
And  I  '11  appear  again. 

Alb.  Why,  fare  thee  well:   I  will  o'erlook  thy  paper.      50 

[Exit  Edgar. 

Re-enter  Edmund. 

Edm.  The  enemy  's  in  view:   draw  up  your  powers. 

Here  is  the  guess  of  their  true  strength  and  forces 
By  dihgent  discovery;   but  your  haste 
Is  now  urged  on  you. 

Alb.  We  will  greet  the  time.     [Exit. 

Edm.  To  both  these  sisters  have  I  sworn  my  love; 
Each  jealous  of  the  other,  as  the  stung 
Are  of  the  adder.     Which  of  them  shall  I  take? 
Both?  one?  or  neither?     Neither  can  be  enjoy'd. 
If  both  remain  alive:   to  take  the  widow 
Exasperates,  makes  mad  her  sister  Goneril;  60 

And  hardly  shall  I  carry  out  my  side. 
Her  husband  being  alive.     Now  then  we  '11  use 
His  countenance  for  the  battle;   which  being  done. 
Let  her  who  would  be  rid  of  him  devise 
His  speedy  taking  off.    As  for  the  mercy 

132 


KING   LEAR  Act  V.  Sc.  ii. 

Which  he  intends  to  Lear  and  to  Cordelia, 

The  battle  done,  and  they  within  our  power, 

Shall  never  see  his  pardon;  for  my  state 

Stands  on  me  to  defend,  not  to  debate.  [Exit. 


Scene  IL 

A  Held  between  the  two  camps. 

Alarum  within.     Enter ,  with  drum  and  colours,  Lear, 

Cordelia,  and  Soldiers,  over  the  stage;  and  exeunt. 

Enter  Edgar  and  Gloucester. 

Edg.  Here,  father,  take  the  shadow  of  this  tree 

For  your  good  host;  pray  that  the  right  may  thrive: 
If  ever  I  return  to  you  again, 
I  '11  bring  you  comfort. 

Glou.  Grace  go  with  you,  sir! 

[Exit  Edgar. 

Alarum  and  retreat  within.     Re-enter  Edgar. 

Edg.  Away,  old  man;  give  me  thy  hand;  away!  . 

King  Lear  hath  lost,  he  and  his  daughter  ta'en: 

Give  me  thy  hand;    come  on. 
Glou.  No  further,  sir;  a  man  may  rot  even  here. 
Edg.  What,  in  ill  thoughts  again?     Men  must  endure 

Their  going  hence,  even  as  their  coming  hither:     lo 

Ripeness  is  all:  come  on. 
Glou.  And  that 's  true  too. 

[Exeunt. 


133 


ActV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

Scene  III. 

The  British  camp  near  Dover. 

Enter,  in  cmiquest,  with  drum  and  colours,  Edmund;  Lear 
and  Cordelia,  as  prisoners;  Captain,  Soldiers,  &c. 

Edm.  Some  officers  take  them  away:   good  guard, 
Until  their  greater  pleasures  first  be  known 
That  are  to  censure  them. 

Cor.  We  are  not  the  first 

Who  with  best  meaning  have  incurr'd  the  worst. 
For  thee,  oppressed  king,  am  I  cast  down; 
Myself  could  else  out-frown  false  fortune's  frown. 
Shall  we  not  see  these  daughters  and  these  sisters? 

Lear.  No,  no,  no,  no!     Come,  let's  away  to  prison: 
We  two  alone  will  sing  like  birds  i'  the  cage: 
When  thou  dost  ask  me  blessing,  I  '11  kneel  down 
And  ask  of  thee  forgiveness:   so  we '11  live,  ii 

And  pray,  and  sing,  and  tell  old  tales,  and  laugh 
At  gilded  butterflies,  and  hear  poor  rogues 
Talk  of  court  news;   and  we  '11  talk  with  them  too, 
Who  loses  and  who  wins,  who  's  in,  who  's  out; 
And  take  upon  's  the  mystery  of  things, 
As  if  we  were  God's  spies :  and  we  '11  wear  out, 
In  a  wall'd  prison,  packs  and  sects  of  great  ones 
That  ebb  and  flow  by  the  moon. 

Edm.  Take  them  away. 

Lear.  Upon  such  sacrifices,  my  CordeHa,  20 

The  gods  themselves  throw  incense.     Have  I  caught 

thee? 
He  that  parts  us  shall  bring  a  brand  from  heaven. 
And  fire  us  hence  like  foxes.     Wipe  thine  eyes; 

134 


KING   LEAR  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

The  good-years  shall  devour  them,  flesh  and  fell, 
Ere  they  shall  make  us  weep;   we'll  see  'em  starve 

first. 
Come.  [Exeunt  Lear  and  Cordelia,  guarded. 

Edm.  Come  hither,  captain;   hark. 

Take  thou  this  note:  go  follow  them  to  prison  : 

One  step  I  have  advanced  thee;  if  thou  dost 

As  this  instructs  thee,  thou  dost  make  thy  way 

To  noble  fortunes:   know  thou  this,  that  men         30 

Are  as  the  time  is:   to  be  tender-minded 

Does  not  become  a  sword:   thy  great  employment 

Will  not  bear  question;   either  say  thou  'It  do  't, 

Or  thrive  by  other  means. 

Capt.  I  '11  do  't,  my  lord. 

Edm.  About  it;   and  write  happy  when  thou  hast  done. 
Mark;   I  say,  instantly,  and  carry  it  so 
As  I  have  set  it  down. 

Capt.  I  cannot  draw  a  cart,  nor  eat  dried  oats ; 

If  it  be  man's  work,  I  '11  do  't.  [Exit. 

Flourish.     Enter  Albany,  Goneril,  Regan,  another  Captain, 
and  Soldiers. 

Alb.  Sir,  you  have  shown  to-day  your  valiant  strain,      40 
And  fortune  led  you  well:   you  have  the  captives 
That  were  the  opposites  of  this  day's  strife: 
We  do  require  them  of  you,  so  to  use  them 
As  we  shall  find  their  merits  and  our  safety 
May  equally  determine. 

Edm.  Sir,  I  thought  it  fit 

To  send  the  old  and  miserable  king 
To  some  retention  and  appointed  guard; 
Whose  age  has  charms  in  it,  whose  title  more, 

135 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

To  pluck  the  common  bosom  on  his  side, 

And  turn  our  impress'd  lances  in  our  eyes  50 

Which  do  command  them.     With  him  I  sent  the 

queen: 
My  reason  all  the  same;   and  they  are  ready 
To-morrow  or  at  further  space  to  appear 
Where  you  shall  hold  your  session.     At  this  time 
We  sweat  and  bleed:  the  friend  hath  lost  his  friend; 
And  the  best  quarrels,  in  the  heat,  are  cursed 
By  those  that  feel  their  sharpness. 
The  question  of  Cordelia  and  her  father 
Requires  a  fitter  place. 

Alb.  Sir,  by  your  patience, 

I  hold  you  but  a  subject  of  this  war,  60 

Not  as  a  brother. 

Reg.  That 's  as  we  hst  to  grace  him. 

Methinks  our  pleasure  might  have  been  demanded, 
Ere  you  had  spoke  so  far.     He  led  our  powers. 
Bore  the  commission  of  my  place  and  person; 
The  which  immediacy  may  well  stand  up 
And  call  itself  your  brother.    , 

Gan.  Not  so  hot : 

In  his  own  grace  he  doth  exalt  himself 
More  than  in  your  addition. 

Reg..  In  my  rights. 

By  me  invested,  he  compeers  the  best. 

Gon.  That  were  the  most,  if  he  should  husband  you.     70 

Reg.  Jesters  do  oft  prove  prophets. 

Gon.  Holla,  holla! 

That  eye  that  told  you  so  look'd  but  a-squint. 

Reg.  Lady,  I  am  not  well;   else  I  should  answer 
P'rom  a  full-flowing  stomach.     General, 
Take  thou  my  soldiers,  prisoners,  patrimony; 
136 


KING   LEAR  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Dispose  of  them,  of  me;  the  walls  are  thine: 

Witness  the  world,  that  I  create  thee  here 

My  lord  and  master. 
Gon.  Mean  you  to  enjoy  him? 

Alb.  The  let-alone  lies  not  in  your  good  will. 
Edm.  Nor  in  thine,  lord. 

Alb.  Half-blooded  fellow,  yes.      80 

Reg.    [To  Edmund]  Let  the  drum  strike,  and  prove  my 

title  thine. 
Alb.  Stay  yet;   hear  reason.     Edmund,  I  arrest  thee 

On  capital  treason;   and  in  thine  attaint 

This  gilded  serpent   [pointing  to  Gon.].     For  your 
claim,  fair  sister, 

I  bar  it  in  the  interest  of  my  wife; 

'Tis  she  is  sub-contracted  to  this  lord. 

And  I,  her  husband,  contradict  your  bans. 

If  you  will  marry,  make  your  loves  to  me; 

My  lady  is  bespoke. 

Gon.  An  interlude! 

Alb.  Thou  art  arm'd  Gloucester:   let  the  trumpet  sound: 
If  none  appear  to  prove  upon  thy  person  91 

Thy  heinous,  manifest,  and  many  treasons. 
There  is  my  pledge  [throwing  down  a  glove^ :    I  '11 

prove  it  on  thy  heart. 
Ere  I  taste  bread,  thou  art  in  nothing  less 
Than  I  have  here  proclaim'd  thee. 

Reg.  Sick,  O,  sick! 

Gon.   [Aside]  If  not,  I  '11  ne'er  trust  medicine. 

Edm.   [  Throwing  down  a  glove]    There  's  my  exchange ; 
what  in  the  world  he  is 
That  names  me  traitor,  villain-like  he  lies: 
Call  by  thy  trumpet:  he  that  dares  approach, 

137 


ActV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

On  him,  on  you, — who  not? — I  will  maintain        loo 

My  truth  and  honour  firmly. 
Alb.  A  herald,  ho! 

Edm.  A  herald,  ho,  a  herald! 

Alb.  Trust  to  thy  single  virtue;   for  thy  soldiers, 

All  levied  in  my  name,  have  in  my  name 

Took  their  discharge. 
Reg.  My  sickness  grows  upon  me. 

Alb.  She  is  not  well;  convey  her  to  my  tent. 

[Exit  Regan,  led. 

Enter  a  Herald. 

Come  hither,  herald, — Let  the  trumpet  sound, — 
And  read  out  this. 

Capt.  Sound,  trumpet!  [A  trumpet  sounds. 

Her.   [Reads']    'If   any   man   of   quaUty   or   degree  no 
within  the  Hsts  of  the  army  will  maintain  upon 
Edmund,  supposed  Earl  of  Gloucester,  that  he 
is  a  manifold  traitor,  let  him  appear  by  the  third 
sound  of  the  trumpet:  he  is  bold  in  his  defence.' 

Edm.  Sound!  [First  trumpet. 

Her.  Again!  [Second  trumpet. 

Her.  Again!  [Third  trumpet. 

[Trumpet  answers  within. 

Enter  Edgar,  at  the  third  sound,  armed,  zmth  a  trumpet 
before  him. 

Alb.  Ask  him  his  purposes,  why  he  appears 

Upon  this  call  o'  the  trumpet. 
Her.  What  are  you? 

Your  name,  your  quality?  and  why  you  answer  120 

This  present  summons? 
Edg.  Know,  my  name  is  lost; 

138 


KING   LEAR  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

By  treason's  tooth  bare-gnawn  and  canker-bit: 
Yet  am  I  noble  as  the  adversary 
I  come  to  cope. 

Alb.  Which  is  that  adversary? 

Edg.  What 's  he  that  speaks  for  Edmund,  Earl  of  Glou- 
cester? 

EdjH.  Himself:   what  say'st  thou  to  him? 

Edg.  Draw  thy  sword, 

That  if  my  speech  ofifend  a  noble  heart. 
Thy  arm  may  do  tfiee  justice:  here  is  mine. 
Behold,  it  is  the  privilege  of  mine  honours. 
My  oath,  and  my  profession:   I  protest,  130 

Maugre  thy  strength,  youth,  place  and  eminence, 
Despite  thy  victor  sw^ord  and  fire-new  fortune. 
Thy  valour  and  thy  heart,  thou  art  a  traitor, 
False  to  thy  gods,  thy  brother  and  thy  father, 
Conspirant  'gainst  this  high  illustrious  prince, 
And  from  the  extremest  upward  of  thy  head 
To  the  descent  and  dust  below  thy  foot, 
A  most  toad-spotted  traitor.     Say  thou  *  No,' 
This  sword,  this  arm  and  my  best  spirits  are  bent 
To  prove  upon  thy  heart,  whereto  I  speak,  140 

Thou  liest. 

Edm.  In  wisdom  I  should  ask  thy  name, 

But  since  thy  outside  looks  so  fair  and  warlike 
And  that  thy  tongue  some  say  of  breeding  breathes. 
What  safe  and  nicely  I  might  well  delay 
By  rule  of  knighthood,  I  disdain  and  spurn: 
Back  do  I  toss  these  treasons  to  thy  head; 
With  the  hell-hated  lie  o'erwhelm  thy  heart; 
Which  for  they  yet  glance  by  and  scarcely  bruise, 
This  sword  of  mine  shall  give  them  instant  way, 

139 


AclV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

Where  they  shall  rest  for  ever.     Trumpets,  speak! 
[Alarums.     They  fight.     Edmund  falls. 
Alb.  Save  him,  save  him ! 
Gon.  This  is  practice,  Gloucester:  151 

By  the  law  of  arms  thou  wast  not  bound  to  answer 

An  unknown  opposite;  thou  art  not  vanquish'd, 

But  cozen'd  and  beguiled. 
Alh.  Shut  your  mouth,  dame, 

Or  with  this  paper  shall  I  stop  it.     Hold,  sir; 

Thou  worse  than  any  name,*  read  thine  own  evil. 

No  tearing,  lady;   I  perceive  you  know  it. 
Gon.  Say,  if  I  do,  the  laws  are  mine,  not  thine : 

Who  can  arraign  me  for  't? 
Alb.  Most  monstrous! 

Know'st  thou  this  paper? 
Gon.  Ask  me  not  what  I  know.  160 

[Exit. 
Alb.  Go  after  her:  she 's  desperate;  govern  her. 
Edm.  What  you  have  charged  me  with,  that  have  I  done; 

And  more,  much  more;  the  time  will  bring  it  out: 

'Tis  past,  and  so  am  I.     But  what  art  thou 

That  hast  this  fortune  on  me?     If  thou  'rt  noble, 

I  do  forgive  thee. 

Edg.  Let 's  exchange  charity. 

I  am  no  less  in  blood  than  thou  art,  Edmund; 

If  more,  the  more  thou  hast  wrong'd  me. 

My  name  is  Edgar,  and  thy  father's  son. 

The  gods  are  just,  and  of  our  pleasant  vices         170 

Make  instruments  to  plague  us: 

The  dark  and  vicious  place  where  thee  he  got 

Cost  him  his  eyes. 
Edm.  Thou  hast  spoken  right,  'tis  true  ; 

140 


KING   LEAR  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

The  wheel  is  come  full  circle;   I  am  here. 

Alb.  Methought  thy  very  gait  did  prophesy 
A  royal  nobleness:  I  must  embrace  thee: 
Let  sorrow  split  my  heart,  if  ever  I 
Did  hate  thee  or  thy  father! 

Edg.  Worthy  prince,  I  know  't. 

Alb.  Where  have  you  hid  yourself? 

How  have  you  known  the  miseries  of  your  father? 

Edg.  By  nursing  them,  my  lord.     List  a  brief  tale.      i8i 
And  when  'tis  told,  O,  that  my  heart  would  burst! 
The  bloody  proclamation  to  escape 
That  follow'd  me  so  near, — O,  our  lives'  sweetness! 
That  we  the  pain  of  death  would  hourly  die 
-   Rather  than  die  at  once! — taught  me  to  shift 
Into  a  madman's  rags,  to  assume  a  semblance 
That  very  dogs  disdain'd :   and  in  this  habit 
Met  I  my  father  with  his  bleeding  rings,  189 

Their  precious  stones  new  lost;  became  his  guide, 
Led  him,  begg'd  for  him,  saved  him  from  despair; 
Never — O  fault! — reveal'd  myself  unto  him. 
Until. some  half-hour  past,  when  I  was  arm'd; 
Not  sure,  though  hoping,  of  this  good  success, 
I  ask'd  his  blessing,  and  from  first  to  last 
Told  him  my  pilgrimage:  but  his  flaw'd  heart, — 
Alack,  too  weak  the  conflict  to  support! — 
Twixt  two  extremes  of  passion,  joy  and  grief. 
Burst  smilingly. 

Edm.  This  speech  of  yours  hath  moved  me. 

And  shall  perchance  do  good;   but  speak  you  on; 
You  look  as  you  had  something  more  to  say.       201 

Alb.  If  there  be  more,  more  woful,  hold  it  in; 
For  I  am  almost  ready  to  dissolve, 

141 


ActV.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Hearing  of  this. 

Edg.  This  would  have  seem'd  a  period 

To  such  as  love  not  sorrow;  but  another, 
To  amplify  too  much,  would  make  much  more, 
And  top  extremity. 

Whilst  I  was  big  in  clamour,  came  there  in  a  man, 
Who,  having  seen  me  in  my  worst  estate, 
Shunn'd  my  abhorr'd  society;  but  then,  finding  210 
Who  'twas  that  so  endured,  with  his  strong  arms 
He  fasten'd  on  my  neck,  and  bellow'd  out 
As  he  'Id  burst  heaven;  threw  him  on  my  father; 
Told  the  most  piteous  tale  of  Lear  and  him 
That  ever  ear  received:  which  in  recounting 
His  grief  grew  puissant,  and  the  strings  of  life 
Began  to  crack:  twice  then  the  trumpet  sounded, 
And  there  I  left  him  tranced. 

Alb.  But  who  was  this? 

Edg.  Kent,  sir,  the  banish'd  Kent;  who  in  disguise 

Follow'd  his  enemy  king,  and  did  him  service      220 
Improper  for  a  slave. 

Enter  a  Gentleman,  with  a  bloody  knife, 

Gent.  Help,  help,  O,  help! 

Edg.  What  kind  of  help? 

Alb.  Speak,  man. 

Edg.  What  means  this  bloody  knife? 

Gent.  'Tis  hot,  it  smokes; 

It  came  even  from  the  heart  of — O,  she  's  dead! 
Alb.  Who  dead?  speak,  man. 
Gent.  Your  lady,  sir,  your  lady:  and  her  sister 

By  her  is  poisoned;   she  hath  confess'd  it. 
Edm.  I  was  contracted  to  them  both :  all  three 

142 


KING   LEAR  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

Now  marry  in  an  instant. 
Edg.  Here  comes  Kent. 

Alh.  Produce  the  bodies,  be  they  alive  or  dead.  230 

[Exit  Gentleman. 
This    judgement    of    the    heavens,    that   makes    us 

tremble, 
Touches  us  not  with  pity. 

Enter  Kent. 

O,  is  this  he? 

The  time  will  not  allow  the  compliment 

Which  very  manners  urges. 
Kent.  I  am  come 

To  bid  my  king  and  master  aye  good  night: 

Is  he  not  here? 
Alb.  Great  thing  of  us  forgot! 

Speak,  Edmund,  where  's  the  king?    and  where 's 
CordeHa? 

See'st  -thou  this  object,  Kent? 

[The  bodies  of  Goneril  and  Regan  are  brought  in. 
Kent.  Alack,  why  thus? 
Edm.  Yet  Edmund  was  beloved: 

The  one  the  other  poison'd  for  my  sake,  240 

And  after  slew  herself. 
Alb.  Even  so.     Cover  their  faces. 
Edm.  I  pant  for  life:   some  good  I  mean  to  do. 

Despite  of  mine  own  nature.     Quickly  send, 

Be  brief  in  it,  to  the  castle;  for  my  writ 

Is  on  the  life  of  Lear  and  on  CordeHa: 

Nay,  send  in  time. 
Alb.  Run,  run,  O,  run! 

Edg.  To  who,  my  lord?     Who  hath  the  ofihce?  send 

Thy  token  of  reprieve. 

143 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Edm.  Well  thought  on:  take  my  sword,  250 

Give  it  the  captain. 
Alb.  Haste  thee,  for  thy  life. 

[Exit  Edgar. 
Edm.  He  hath  commission  from  thy  wife  and  me 

To  hang  Cordelia  in  the  prison,  and 

To  lay  the  blame  upon  her  own  despair. 

That  she  fordid  herself. 
Alb.  The  gods  defend  her!     Bear  him  hence  awhile. 

{Edmund  is  borne  off. 

Re-enter  Lear,  with  Cordelia  dead  in  his  arms; 
Edgar,  Captain,  and  others  follozuing. 

Lear.  Howl,   howl,   howl,   howl!     O,   you   are    men   of 
stones: 

Had  I  your  tongues  and  eyes,  I  'Id  use  them  so 

That  heaven's  vault  should  crack.     She  's  gone  for 
ever! 

I  know  when  one  is  dead  and  when  one  lives;       260 

She  's  dead  as  earth.     Lend  me  a  looking-glass; 

If  that  her  breath  will  mist  or  stain  the  stone. 

Why,  then  she  lives. 
Kent.  Is  this  the  promised  end? 

Edg.  Or  image  of  that  horror? 
Alb.  Fall  and  cease. 

Lear.  This  feather  stirs;  she  lives.     If  it  be  so, 

It  is  a  chance  which  does  redeem  all  sorrows 

That  ever  I  have  felt. 
Kent.  [Kneeling]   O  my  good  master! 

Lear.  Prithee,  away. 

Edg.  'Tis  noble  Kent,  your  friend. 

Lear.  A  plague  upon  you,  murderers,  traitors  all! 

I  might  have  saved  her;  now  she  's  gone  for  ever! 

144 


i 


KING  LEAR  Act  V.  Sc.  Hi. 

Cordelia,  Cordelia!   stay  a  little!     Ha!  271 

What  is  't  thou  say'st?     Her  voice  was  ever  soft, 

Gentle  and  low,  an  excellent  thing  in  woman. 

I  kill'd  the  slave  that  was  a-hanging  thee. 
Capt.  'Tis  true,  my  lords,  he  did. 
Lear.  Did  I  not,  fellow? 

I  have  seen  the  day,  with  my  good  biting  falchion 

I  would  have  made  them  skip:   I  am  old  now. 

And  these  same  crosses  spoil  me.     Who  are  you? 

Mine  eyes  are  not  o'  the  best:  I  '11  tell  you  straight. 
Kent.  If  fortune  brag  of  two  she  loved  and  hated,       280 

One  of  them  we  behold. 
Lear.  This  is  a  dull  sight.     Are  you  not  Kent? 
Kent.  The  same, 

Your  servant  Kent.     Where  is  your  servant  Caius? 
Lear.  He  's  a  good  fellow,  I  can  tell  you  that; 

He  '11  strike,  and  quickly  too:  he  's  dead  and  rotten. 
Kent.  No,  my  good  lord;   I  am  the  very  man — 
Lear.  I  '11  see  that  straight. 
Kent.  That  from  your  first  of  difference  and  decay 

Have  follow'd  your  sad  steps. 
Lear.  You  are  welcome  hither. 

Kent.  Nor  no  man  else;  all 's  cheerless,  dark  and  deadly. 

Your  eldest  daughters  have  fordone  themselves,  291 

And  desperately  are  dead. 
Lear.  Ay,  so  I  think. 

Alh.  He  knows  not  what  he  says,  and  vain  is  it 

That  we  present  us  to  him. 
Edg.  Very  bootless. 

Enter  a  Captain. 

Capt.  Edmund  is  dead,  my  lord. 

145 


Act  V.  Sc.  iii.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Alb.  That 's  but  a  trifle  here. 

You  lords  and  noble  friends,  know  our  intent. 
What  comfort  to  this  great  decay  may  come 
Shall  be  applied:  for  us,  we  will  resign, 
During  the  life  of  this  old  majesty, 
To  him  our  absolute  power:   [To  Edgar  and  Kent] 
you,  to  your  rights ;  300 

With  boot,  and  such  addition  as  your  honours 
Have  more  than  merited.     All  friends  shall  taste 
The  wages  of  their  virtue,  and  all  foes 
The  cup  of  their  deservings.     O,  see,  see! 

Lear.  And  my  poor  fool  is  hang'd!     No,  no,  no  life! 

Why  should  a  dog,  a  horse,  a  rat,  have  life. 

And  thou  no  breath  at  all?     Thou  'It  come  no  more. 

Never,  never,  never,  never,  never! 

Pray  you,  undo  this  button:   thank  you,  sir. 

Do  you  see  this?     Look  on  her,  look,  her  lips,     310 

Look  there,  look  there!  [Dies. 

Edg.  He  faints.     My  lord,  my  lord! 

Kent.  Break,  heart;  I  prithee,  break! 
Edg.  Look  up,  my  lord. 

Kent.  Vex  not  his  ghost:   O,  let  him  pass!   he  hates  him 

That  would  upon  the  rack  of  this  tough  world 

Stretch  him  out  longer. 

Edg.  He  is  gone  indeed. 

Kent.  The  wonder  is  he  hath  endured  so  long 
He  but  usurp'd  his  life. 

Alb.  Bear  them  from  hence.     Our  present  business 

Is  general  woe.     [To  Kent  and  Edgar]     Friends  of 

my  soul,  you  twain 
Rule  in  this  realm  and  the  gored  state  sustain.      320 

Kent.  I  have  a  journey,  sir,  shortly  to  go; 

146 


KING   LEAR  Act  V.  Sc.  iii. 

My  master  calls  me,  I  must  not  say  no. 
Alb.     The  weight  of  this  sad  time  we  must  obey, 
Speak  what  we  feel,  not  what  we  ought  to  say. 
The  oldest  hath  borne  most:   we  that  are  young 
Shall  never  see  so  much,  nor  live  so  long. 

[Exeunt,  with  a  dead  march. 


147 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Glossary. 


Abated,  diminished,  deprived; 
II.  iv.  i6o. 

Able,  uphold,  answer  for;  IV. 
vi.  172. 

Abused,  deceived;  IV.  i.  23. 

Action-taking;  "  resenting  an 
injury  by  a  law-suit,  instead 
of  fighting  it  out  like  a  man 
of  honour"  (Schmidt);  II. 
ii.  16. 

Addition,  distinction,  title;  II. 
ii.  26;  V.  iii.  301.  "  Your  a.," 
the  title  you  have  given 
him ;  V.  iii.  .68. 

Additions,  outward  honour, 
titles;  I.  i.  137. 

Address,  address  ourselves;  I. 
i.  192. 

Admiration,  amazement,  as- 
tonishment ;  I.  iv.  244. 

Advise  yourself,  consider;  II. 
i.  28. 

Affected;  "had  more  a.,"  had 
better  liked,  been  more  par- 
tial to;  I.  i.  I. 

After,  afterwards;  V.  iii.  241. 

A-height,  aloft,  to  the  height; 
IV.  vi.  58. 

Aidant,  helpful;  IV.  iv.  17. 

Ajax,  taken  as  a  typical 
boaster  (according  to  some, 
a  plain,  blunt,  brave  fellow)  ; 
II.  ii.  126. 


Alarum' d;    "best    a.     spirits," 

spirits  thoroughly  aroused  to 

the  combat ;  II.  i.  54. 
All,  altogether;  I.  i.  105. 
Allay,  be  allayed;  I.  ii.  175. 
Allozv,  approve  of;  II.  iv.  193. 
Allozvance,    countenance,    per- 
mission; I.  iv,  214. 
Alms;  "at  fortune's  a.,"  as  an 

alms  of  fortune ;  I.  i.  280. 
Amity,  friendship;  II.  iv.  244. 
An,  if;  I.  iv.  185. 
Ancient    of    war,    experienced 

officers;  V.  i.  2>^. 
Answer;   "  a.   my  life,"  let  my 

life  answer  for;  I.  i.  152. 
Apollo;  "by  Apollo,"  an  oath; 

I.  i.  161. 
Appear;  "  wilt  a.,"  dost  wish  to 

seem;  I.  i.  182. 
Approve,  prove;  II.  ii.  161. 
Approves,  confirms;  II.  iv.  185. 

,  proves;  III.  v.  11. 

Arbitrement,  contest,  decision; 

IV.  vii.  94. 
Arch,  chief;  II.  i.  60. 
Argument,  subject;  I.  i.  217. 
Aroint  thee,  make  room,  away 

with    thee    (Quartos,    " arint 

thee  ")  ;  III.  iv.  129. 
As,  as  if;  III.  iv.  15. 
Assured  loss,  certainty  of  loss ; 

III.  vi.  98. 
Attaint,    impeachment;    V.    iii. 

83. 


148 


KING   LEAR 


Glossary 


Attask'd  for,  blamed  for  (Fo- 
lios I,  2,  3,  "at  task  for"; 
some  copies  of  Quarto  i, 
"  attaskt  for";  Quartos  2,  3, 
"  alapt")  ;  I.  iv.  366. 

Attend,  await;  II.  i.  126. 

,  watch,  wait ;  II.  iii.  5. 

Auricular,  got  by  hearing 
(Quartos,  "  aurigular")  ;  I. 
ii.  98. 

Avert,  turn ;  I.  i.  213. 

Avouch,  own,  acknowledge ;  II. 
iv.  239. 

Avouched,  asserted;  V.  i.  44. 

Back,  on  his  way  back ;  IV.  ii. 

90. 
Ballow,     cudgel      (Quarto     2, 

"hat")  ;  IV.  vi.  246. 
Balm'd,  cured,  healed ;  III.  vi. 

lOI. 

Bandy,  beat  to  and  fro  (a  term 

in  tennis)  ;  I.  iv.  87. 
Bans,  curses ;  II.  iii.  19. 
Bar,  shut;  II.  i.  Si. 

,  debar,  exclude ;  V.  iii.  85. 

Barber-monger,    frequenter    of 

barbers'  shops,  fop ;  II.  ii.  33. 
Bearing,  suffering;  III.  vi.  no. 
Becomes,    suits,    agrees    with ; 

II.  iv.  154. 
Bedlam,  lunatic;  III.  vii.  103. 
Bedlam  .beggars,  mad  beggars; 

II.  iii.  14.  (Cp.  illustration.) 
Beguiled,  deceived;  II.  ii.  in. 
Belike,  it  may  be,  perhaps;  IV. 

V.  20. 
Bemadding,  maddening ;  III.  i. 

38. 
Be-met,  met;  V.  i.  20. 
Bench,   sit   on   the  judgement- 
seat;  III.  vi.  39. 


Bending,  directing,  raising; 
IV.  ii.  74- 

Benison,  blessing ;  I.  i.  267. 

Besort,  become;  I.  iv.  259. 

Best;  "were  b.,"  had  better; 
I.  iv.  100. 

Bethought;  "  am  b.,"  have  de- 
cided; II.  iii.  6. 

Bestow,   place,    lodge ;    IV.   vi. 

293- 

Bestoii/d,  housed,  lodged;  II. 
iv.  291. 

Betwixt,  between ;  I.  i.  139. 

Bewray,  betray,  reveal  (Quar- 
tos, "betray")  ;  II.  i.  108. 

Bias  of  nature,  natural  direc- 
tion, tendency;  I.  ii.  120. 

Bide,  bear;  III.  iv.  29. 

Biding,  abiding  place ;  IV.  vi. 
228. 

Big,  loud ;  V.  iii.  208. 

Blame,  fault ;  II.  iv,  292. 


From  a  sketch  by  Inigo  Jones  of 
the  Palmer's  dress  worn  by  Romeo 
in  the  Masquerade  Scene. 


149 


Glossary 


THE   TRAGEDY   OF 


Blank,  the  white  mark  in  the 
centre  of  the  butt  at  which 
the  arrow  is  aimed;  I.  i.  i6i. 

Block,  fashion  of  a  hat;  IV.  vi. 
187. 

Blood,  nature;  III.  v.  23. 

,  impulse,  passion  (Theo- 
bald, "boiling  blood'');  IV, 
ii.  64. 

Blown,  ambitious,  inflated;  IV. 
iv.  27. 

Boil,  inflamed  tumour  (Quar- 
tos, Folios,  "bile/'  "byle")  ; 
II.  iv.  225. 

Bolds,  encourages;  V.  i.  26. 

Bond,  duty,  obligation;  I.  i.  94. 

Bones;  "young  b.,"  i.e.  un- 
born infant;  II.  iv.  164. 

Boot;  "  to  b.,  and  b.,"  for  your 
reward  (  ?  "  over  and  above 
my  thanks  ")  ;  IV.  vi.  230. 

Bootless,  useless ;  V.  iii.  294. 

Border' d,  limited,  confined; 
IV.  ii.  33. 

Bosom;  "of  her  b.,"  in  her 
confidence;  IV.  v.  26. 

,    "  common    b.,"    affection 

of  the  people ;  V.  iii.  49. 

BoSm'd,  in  her  confidence ;  V. 
i.  13. 

Bound,  ready;  III.  vii.  11. 

Bourn,  brook;  III.  vi.  27. 

,   limit,   boundary ;    IV.   vi. 

57. 

Brack,  a  female  hound  (Folios, 
"the  Lady  Brack";  Quar- 
tos, "Lady  otk'e  brack";  A. 
Smith,  "Lye  the  brack"); 
I.  iv.  116. 

Brazed,  brazened,  hardened;  I. 
i.  II. 


Brief;  "be  b.  in  it,"  be  quick 

about  it ;  V.  iii.  245. 
British    (Folios,    "Englisk"); 

IV.  vi.  254. 
Brow  of  youtk,  youthful  brow ; 

I.  iv.  292. 
Brown  bills,  browned  halberds 

used  by  foot-soldiers ;  IV.  vi. 

91.     (Cp.  illustration.) 


From  original  specimens  (a)  XVItii 
century,  (3)  later. 

Buoy'd,  lifted  itself  (Quarto  i, 
Mus.  per.  and  Bodl.  2, 
"  bod  " ;  Quarto  i,  Cap.  Dev. 
Mus.  imp.  and  Bodl.  i, 
"  layd " ;  Quartos  2,  3, 
"laid")  ;  III.  vii.  60. 

Bur-docks,  the  plant  Arctrum 
Lappa  (Hanmer's  emenda- 
tion ;  Quartos,  "  hordocks  " ; 
Folios  I,  2,  "  Hardokes " ; 
Folios  3,  4,  "  Hardocks " ; 
Farmer  conj.  1778,  "  har- 
locks " ;  Collier,  Steevens 
conj.  "hoar-docks" ;  IV.  iv.  4. 


150 


KING   LEAR 


Glossary 


But,  only;  IV.  vi.  128. 
Bus2,  whisper;  I.  iv.  334. 
By,  from  (Folios,  "  on")  ;  I.  ii. 
132. 

Cadent,  falling  (Quartos  i,  2, 
"  accent " ;  Quarto  3,  ''  ac- 
cient")  ;  I.  iv.  293. 

Caitiff,  wretch  (Folios,  "  cozv- 
ard")  ;  II.  i.  62,. 

Canielot;  "I'd  drive  ye  cackling 
home  to  C." ;  probably  a 
proverb  not  yet  satisfactorily 
explained;  it  is  said  that 
near  Cadbury  in  Somerset- 
shire, the  supposed  site  of 
Camelot,  there  are  large 
pools,  upon  which  many 
geese  are  bred;  II.  ii.  84. 

Can,  can  do;  IV.  iv.  8. 

Canker-bit,  canker-bitten ;  V. 
iii.  122. 

Capable,  capable  of  inheriting; 
II.  i.  85. 

Carbonado,  cut  across  like  a 
piece  of  meat  for  broiling  or 
grilling;  II.  ii.  38. 

Carry,  bear;  III.  ii.  49. 

,  carry  out,  contrive ;  V.  iii. 

36. 

Carry  out  my  side;  "be  a  win- 
ner in  the  game  "  (Schmidt)  ; 
V.  i.  61. 

Case,  empty  socket ;  IV.  vi.  126. 

Cat,  civet  cat;  III.  iv.  109. 

Cataracts,  water-spouts  (Quar- 
to I,  "  caterickes")  ;  III.  ii.  2. 

Censure,  judge,  pass  sentence 
upon ;  V.  iii.  3. 

Centaurs,  fabulous  monsters, 
half  man,  half  horse;  IV.  vi. 
126. 


Century,    troop    of   a   hundred 

men ;  IV.  iv.  6. 
Challenge,  claim  as  due ;   I.   i. 

54- 
Challenged,    claimed;    IV.    vii. 

31- 
Champains,  plains,  open  coun- 
try; I.  i.  65. 
Chance,  chances  it ;  II.  iv.  6z. 
Character,    handwriting;    I.    ii. 

66. 
Charge,   expense,   cost ;   II.   iv. 

242. 
Check,  censure,  rebuke ;  II.  ii. 

149- 
Che  vor  ye,  I  warn  you ;  IV.  vi. 

244. 
Child-changed,      changed      by 

children's    conduct ;    IV,    vii. 

17. 
Child  Rowland  {v.  Note)  ;  III. 

iv.  184. 
Chill,     I     will     (Somerset     or 

south-country    dialect)  ;    IV. 

vi.  239. 
Child,    I    should,    or    I    would 

{cp.  "chill");  IV.  vi.  242. 
Clearest,  most  pure,  most  glo- 
rious; IV.  vi.  yz- 
Clipp'd,  curtailed;  IV.  vii.  6. 
Closet,  room,  chamber;  I.  ii.65. 
Clothier's      yard,      cloth-yard- 
shaft,  arrow;  IV.  vi.  88. 
Clot  poll,     blockhead      (Folios, 

"  Clot-pole  "  ;  Quartos  "  clat- 

pole")  ;  I.  iv.  50. 
Clout,   the   white   mark   in   the 

centre  of  the  target ;  IV.  vi. 

92. 
Cock,  cockcrow;  III.  iv.  121. 
,  cockboat;  IV.  vi.  19. 


151 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Cockney,  a  cook's  assistant 
(originally  a  person  con- 
nected with  the  kitchen; 
later,  a  pampered  child)  ;  II. 
iv.  123. 

Cocks,  weathercocks;  III.  ii.  3. 

Cod-piece,  a  part  of  the  male 
attire;  III.  ii.  27. 

Cold;  "  catch  c,"  be  turned  out 
of  doors ;  I.  iv.  113. 

Colour,  kind  (Quartos^  "na- 
ture") ;  II.  ii.  145. 

Comfortable,  able  to  comfort ; 
I.  iv.  328. 

,  comforting;  II.  ii.  171. 

Comforting;  "  giving  aid  and 
comfort  to"  (used  in  a  tech- 
nical legal  sense)  ;  III.  v.  21. 

Commend,  deliver ;  II.  iv.  28. 

Commission,  warrant  to  act  as 
representative ;  V.  iii.  64. 

Commodities,  advantages ;  IV. 
i.  23. 

Compact,  put  together ;  I.  ii.  7. 

,  give  consistency  to;  I.  iv. 

362. 

Compeers,  is  equal  with ;  V.  iii. 
69. 

Conceit,  imagination ;  IV.  vi. 
42. 

Conceive,  understand ;  IV.  ii. 
24. 

Concluded;  "  had  not  c.  all," 
had  not  come  to  an  end  alto- 
gether; IV.  vii.  42. 

Condition,  character,  habit ;  I. 
i.  301. 

Conditions,  character,  temper ; 
IV.  iii.  35. 

Confine,  limit,  boundary;  II.  iv. 
150. 


Confined,  restricted,  limited;  I. 
ii.  25. 

Conjunct,  in  concert  with  (Fo- 
lios, "compact")  ;  II.  ii.  125^ 

,  closely  united;  V.  i.  12. 

Conjuring,  employing  incanta- 
tions; II.  i.  41. 

Consort,  company ;  II.  i.  99. 

Conspirant,  conspirator;  V.  iii. 
135. 

Constant  pleasure,  fixed  re- 
solve ;  V.  i.  4. 

Constrains,  forces ;  II.  ii.  103. 

Contemned'st,  most  despised 
(Quartos,  ''  temnest "  ;  Pope, 
"  the  meanest")  ;  II.  ii.  150. 

Continent,  restraining;  I.  ii. 
181. 

Continents,  that  which  contains 
or  encloses;  III.  ii.  58. 

Convenient,  proper;  V.  i.  36. 

Converse,  associate,  have  inter- 
course ;  I.  iv.  16. 

Convey,  manage  with  secrecy; 
I.  ii.  109. 

Cope,  cope  with ;  V.  iii.  124. 

Corky,  withered,  dry;  III.  vii. 
29. 

Coronet,  crown ;  I.  i.  141. 

Costard,  head ;  IV.  vi.  247. 

Couch,  lie  close  and  hidden; 
III.  i.  12. 

Course,  way  of  life ;  II.  ii.  175. 

,   "  my  very  c,"  the   same 

course^ as  I  do  (Folios,  "my 
course  ")  ;  I.  iii.  26. 

,    "  gentleness    and    c.    of 

yours,"  gentleness  of  your 
course;  I.  iv.  364. 

,  "  the  old  c.  of  jleath,"  a 

natural  death;  III.  vii.  lOi. 


152 


KING   LEAR 


Glossary 


Court  holy-water,  flattery 
("  Ray,  among  his  proverbial 
phrases,  mentions  court  holy- 
water  meaning  fair  words. 
The  French  have  the  same 
phrase:  Eau  benite  de  Cour," 
Steevens)  ;  III.  ii.  lo. 

Courtesy;  "  do  a  c.  to,"  yield, 
give  way  to;  III.  vii.  26. 

Cover,  hide;  I.  i.  284. 

Cowish;  "  cowish  terror,"  cow- 
ardly terror  [Quarto  i  (some 
copies),  "  cowish  curre  "  ; 
Wright  conj.  "currish  ter- 
ror"] ;  IV.  ii.  12. 

Coxcomb,  fool's  cap;  I.  iv.  105. 
{Cp,  illustration.) 


From  the  Troyes  Dance  of  Death, 
1499. 

Coxcombs,  heads;  II.  iv.  125. 
Cozen' d,  cheated,  deceived;  V. 

iii.  154- 
Cozener,  cheater ;  IV.  vi.  167. 
Crab,  crab-apple ;  I.  v.  15. 
Craves,  demands ;  II.  i.  130. 
Crow-keeper,   one    who    scares 

crows  away  from  a  field ;  IV. 

vi.  88. 
Cruel,  a  play  upon  crewel,  i.e. 

worsted,    of    which    garters 

were      made      (Quartos      i, 


2,  "  crewell" ;  Quarto  3, 
"  crewill " ;  Folios  3,  4, 
"crewel");  II.  iv.  7.  (Q. 
illustration.) 


'  Cruel  garters.^ 

Cruels;  "  all  c.  else,  "  all  their 

other  cruelties  "    {v.   Note)  ; 

III.  vii.  65. 
Cry;  "  till  it  c.  sleep  to  death," 

till     its     clamour     murders 

sleep ;  II.  iv.  120. 
Cry  grace,  cry  for  pardon;  III. 

ii.  58. 
Cub-drawn,     sucked     dry     by 

cubs,  famished ;  III.  i.  12. 
Cuckoo-flowers,   cowslips ;    IV. 

iv.  4. 
Cue,  catch-word ;  I.  ii.  147. 
Cullionly,  wretched ;  II.  ii.  36. 
Cunning,   dissimulation;    II.    i. 

31  • 
Curiosity,   minute    scrutiny ;    I. 

i.  6. 
,    suspicious    watchfulness, 

scrupulousness;  I.  iv.  75. 


153 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY   OF 


Curiosity,  over-nice  scrupulous- 
ness (Theobald,  Warburton 
conj.,  "  curtesie")  ;  I.  ii.  4. 

Curious,  nice,  elegant;  I.  iv.  35. 

Curst,  shrewish;  II.  i.  67. 

Darkling,   in   the    dark;    I.    iv. 

22,7- 
Daub  it,  keep  up  my  disguise 
(Quartos,  "dance  it");  IV. 

i.  54. 
Dawning,   morning    (Quartos, 
''  euen  " ;  Pope,  "  evening  ")  ; 

II.  ii.  I. 

Day  and  night,  an  oath  ;  I.  iii.  4. 
Dear,   precious,    valued;    I.   iv. 

294. 

,  important ;  III.  i.  19. 

Death-practised;  "the  d.  duke," 
i.e.  whose  death  is  plotted ; 
IV.  vi.  284. 

Deathsman,  executioner ;  IV. 
vi.  263. 

Dehosh'd,  debauched  (Quar- 
tos, "  dehoyst")  ;  I.  iv.  26^. 

Decline,  bend;  IV.  ii.  22. 

Declining,  becoming  feeble 
(Folios,  "declin'd");  I.  ii. 
78. 

Deed;  "  my  very  d.  of  love," 
my  love  in  very  deed ;  I.  i. 
72. 

Deer,  game;  III.  iv.  144. 

Deficient,  defective;  IV.  vi.  23. 

Defuse,  disorder,  disguise;  I. 
iv.  2. 

Dejected;  "  d.  thing  of  for- 
tune," thing  dejected  by  for- 
tune; IV.  i.  3. 

Demanding,  asking,  enquiring; 

III.  ii.  65. 

Deny,  refuse ;  II.  iv.  88. 


Depart,  depart  from;  III.  v.  i. 
Depend,  be  dependent,  remain; 

I.  iv.  271. 
Deprive;  "disinherit";  I.  ii.  4. 
Derogate,  degraded;  I.  iv.  302. 
Descry;   "  main   d.,"   full   view 

of  the  main  body;  IV.  vi.  217. 
,  spy  out,  discover;  IV.  v. 

13- 
Deserving,  desert ;    III.  iii.  24. 
Desperately,  in  despair;  V.  iii. 

292. 
Detested,  detestable;  I.  ii.  81. 
Difference;  "your  first  of  d.," 

the  first  reverse  of  your  for- 
tune ;  V.  iii:  288. 
Differences,  dissensions;   II.  i. 

125. 
Diffidences,    suspicions ;     I.    ii. 

161. 
Digest,  dispose  of,  use,  enjoy; 

I.  i.  130. 
Dimensions,  parts  of  the  body; 

I.  ii.7. 
Disasters   (used  perhaps  in  its 

original  astrological   sense)  ; 

I.  ii.  131. 
Disbranch,  slip,   tear  off   from 

the  tree;  IV.  ii.  34. 
Disclaims   in,   disowns ;    II.    ii. 

59- 
Discommend,    disapprove ;     II. 

ii.  115- 
Discovery,  reconnoitring;  V.  i. 

53. 

Discretion,  common  sense,  wis- 
dom =  discreet  person;  II. 
iv.  151. 

Diseases,  discomforts  (Folios, 
''disasters")  ;  I.  i.  i77- 

Disnatured,  unnatural;  I.  iv. 
305. 


154 


KING   LEAR 


Glossary 


Display' d  so  saucily,  made  so 

saucy  a  display;  II.  iv.  41. 
Dispositions,  moods,  humours; 

I.  iv.  242. 
Disquantity,    diminish ;     I.    iv. 

270. 
Disquietly,  causing  disquiet ;  I. 

ii.  124. 
Distaff,  spinning  wheel ;  IV.  ii. 

17. 
Distaste,       dislike       (Quartos, 

"dislike")  ;  I.  iii.  15. 
Distract,     distracted ;     IV.    vi. 

288. 
Dolours,  used  with  a  play  upon 

"dollars"     (Folios    i,    2,    3, 

''Dolors");  II.  iv.  54- 
DolpJiin    my    boy,    probably    a 

fragment  of  an  old  song;  III. 

iv.  104. 
Doom,      sentence      (Folio      i, 

"  guift " ;     Folios     2,     3,     4, 

"gift")  ;  I.  i.  167. 
Doubted,  feared ;  V.  i.  6. 
Doubtful,  fearful ;  V.  i.  12. 
Drew,  I   drew   my   sword ;    II. 

iv.  42. 
Ducking,  bowing,  fawning ;  II. 

ii.  109. 
Dullard,  idiot;  II.  i.  76. 

Each;  "at  e.,"  fastened  each  to 

each ;  IV.  vi.  53. 
Ear-kissing,    whispered    in    the 

ear      (Quartos,     "  eare-buss- 

ing")  ;  II.  i.  9. 
Earnest,  earnest  money,  money 

paid  beforehand  as  a  pledge; 

I.  iv.  104. 
Effects,    outward    show;    I.    i, 

133. 


Effects,  actions,  manifesta- 
tions ;  II.  iv.  182. 

,   "prove  e.,"   be   realized; 

IV.  ii.  15. 

Elbows,  stands  at  his  elbow ; 
IV.  iii.  44. 

Elements,  air  and  sky  (Quar- 
tos, "element")  ;  III.  i.  4. 

Elf  all  my  hair,  tangle,  mat  my 
hair  (supposed  to  be  the 
work  of  elves  or  fairies)  ; 
II.  iii.   10. 

Embossed,  protuberant,  swol- 
len ;  II.  iv.  227. 

End,  end  of  the  world;  V.  iii. 
263. 

Engine,  rack;  I.  iv.  290. 

Enguard,  guard;  I.  iv.  349. 

Enormous,    abnormal ;     II.    ii. 

Enridged,  formed  into  ridges; 
IV.  vi.  71. 

Entertain,  engage ;  III.  vi.  83. 

Entire,  main;  I.  i.  243. 

Epileptic ;  "  distorted  by  grin- 
ning " ;  II.  ii.  87. 

Equalities,  equal  conditions 
(Folios,  "qualities")  ;  I.  i.  5. 

Espcrance,  hope;  IV.  i.  4. 

Essay,  assay,  trial ;  I.  ii.  47. 

Estate,  condition ;  V.  iii.  209. 

Even;  "even  o'er,"  pass  over 
in  his  memory;  IV.  vii.  80. 

Event;  "the  e.,"  i.e.  the  result 
will  prove ;  I.  iv.  371. 

Evidence,  witnesses;  III.  vi.  37. 

Exhibition,  allowance;  I.  ii.  25. 

Eyeless,  blind;  III.  i.  8. 

Fain,  gladly;  I.  iv.  196. 
Faint,  slight;  I.  iv.  73. 
Faith' d,  believed;  II.  i.  72. 


155 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Fall,  cause  to  fall ;  II.  iv.  170. 

Fast,  firm,  fixed  (Quartos, 
''first'')  ;  I.  i.  39- 

Fault,  mistake ;  V.  iii.  192. 

Favours;  "  my  hospitable  f./' 
the  features  of  me  your 
host;  III.  vii.  40. 

Fear,  am  afraid  of;  IV.  ii.  31. 

Fears,  frightens ;  III.  v.  4. 

Feature,  outward  form ;  IV.  li. 
63. 

Feeling,  heartfelt ;  IV.  vi.  226. 

Felicitate,  made  happy ;  1.  i.  76. 

Fellow,  companion ;  III.  i.  48. 

Fellows,  comrades ;  I,  iii.  14. 

Fetch,  bring  (Folios  3,  4, 
"fet";  Pope,  "bring");  II. 
iv.  92. 

Fetches,  pretexts,  excuses ;  II. 
iv.  90. 

Fire;  "  f.  us  like  foxes,"  al- 
luding to  the  practice  of 
smoking  foxes  out  of  their 
holes ;  V.  iii.  23. 

Fire-new,  brand  new,  fresh 
from  the  mint ;  V.  iii.  132. 

Fish;  "  eat  no  f.,"  i.e.  be  a  Prot- 
estant (alluding  to  the  Pa- 
pist custom  of  eating  fish  on 
Fridays)  ;  I.  iv.  18. 

Fitchew,  polecat ;  IV.  vi.  124. 

Fitness;  "  my  f.,"  a  thing  be- 
coming me ;  IV.  ii.  63. 

Flaw'd,  shattered,  broken ;  V. 
iii.  196. 

Flaws,  shivers,  particles;  II.  iv. 
288. 

Flesh;  "feed  with  flesh  for 
the  first  time,  initiate " 
(Schmidt);  (Quartos, 
**Aeash")  ;  II.  ii.  49. 


Flesh  and  fell,  flesh  and  skin; 
V.  iii.  24. 

Fleshment;  "in  the  f.  of,"  be- 
ing fleshed  with  (Quartos  i, 
2,  "  Hcchuent "  ;  Quarto  3, 
"  Uechvent")  ;  II.  ii.  130. 

Flibbertigibbet,  the  name  of  a 
fiend;  III.  iv.  120. 

Flying  off,  desertion ;  II.  iv.  91. 

Foins,  thrusts  in  fencing;  IV. 
vi.  251. 

Fond,  foolish;  I.  ii.  52;  I.  iv. 
323  ;  IV.  vii.  60. 

Fool;  "poor  fool,"  used  as  a 
term  of  endearment  (ad- 
dressed to  Cordelia)  ;  V.  iii. 
305. 

,     "their  f.,"     a     fool     to 

them;  II.  ii.  132. 

Foot-ball,  I.  iv.  89.  (Cp.  the 
annexed  illustration,  copied 
from  a  French  etching  dated 
1647.) 

o 


Footed,  landed;  III.  iii.  14. 
Foppish,  foolish ;  I.  iv.  182. 
For,  because ;   I.  i.  227. 

,  as  for;  II.  i.  114;  V.  i.  24. 

Forbid,  forbidden ;  III.  iii.  22. 
Fordid,  destroyed;  V.  iii.  255. 
Fordone,  destroyed ;  V.  iii.  291. 
F ore-vouch' d,  affirmed  before; 

I.  i.  223. 
For  fended,  forbidden;  V.  i.  il. 


156 


KING   LEAR 


Glossary 


Forgot,  forgotten;  V.  iii.  236. 
Fork,  barbed  arrow  head;  I.  i. 
146.      (Cp.  illustration.) 


U) 


{a)  From  a  specimen  found  in  a  tumulus. 
id)  From  the  Cotton  MS.,  Tib.  C.  6 
(Xth  century). 

Forked;    "  man    is     ...     a 

poor,  bare,  forked  animal  " ; 

III.  iv.  112.    (Cp.  the  Chinese 


character  for  man.) 


For  that,  because ;  I.  ii.  v. 
Fortune,  success ;  V.  iii.  165. 
Frame,  manage ;  I.  ii.  107. 
France,  King  of  France;  II.  iv. 

215- 
Frateretto,  the  name  of  one  of 

Harsnet's  fiends;  III.  vi.  7. 
Fraught,  filled;  I.  iv.  241. 
Free,  sound,  not  diseased;  IV. 
,    vi.  80. 
Fret,  wear ;  1.  iv.  307. 


From,  away  from ;  II.  i.  126. 

Frontlet,  frown ;  I.  iv.  207. 

Fruitfully,  fully;  IV.  vi.  270. 

Full,  fully;  I.  iv.  360. 

Full-U owing;  "  freely  venting 
its  passion  "  ;  V.  iii.  74. 

Fumiter,  fumitory ;  IV.  iv.  3. 

Furnishings,  pretences,  out- 
ward shows ;  III.  i.  29. 

Furrow-weeds,  weeds  growing 
on  ploughed  land;  IV.  iv.  3. 

Gad;  "  upon  the  g.,"  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment,  sud- 
denly; I.  ii.  26. 

Gait,  way ;  IV.  vi.  242. 

,  bearing;  V.  iii.  175. 

Gallow,  frighten,  terrify;  III. 
ii.  44- 

Garh,  manner  of  speech ;  II.  ii. 
103. 

Garden  water-pots;  IV.  vi.  200. 
{Cp.  illustration.) 


Gardett  water-^ot. 
From  a  specimen  exhumed  in  Good- 
man's Fields,  Whitechapel. 


T^^7 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY   OF 


Gasted,  frightened;  II.  i.  57. 

Gate;  "  at  g.,"  at  the  gate ;  III. 
vii.  17. 

Generation,  offspring;  I.  i.  119. 

Germins,  germs,  seeds  (Theo- 
bald's emendation ;  Quartos, 
"^Germains" ',  Folios  i,  2, 
"  germaines " ;  Folios  3,  4, 
"  germanes  " ;  Capell,  "  ger- 
mens");  III.  ii.  8. 

Give  you  good  morrow,  God 
give  you  good  morning;  II. 
ii.  165. 

Glass-gazing,  contemplating 
himself  in  a  mirror,  vain, 
foppish;  II.  ii.  19. 

Gloves;  "  wore  g.  in  my  cap," 
i.e.  as  favours  of  my  mis- 
tress; III.  iv.  88. 

Good;  "  made  g.,"  maintained, 
asserted;  I.  i.  175. 

Goodman  boy,  a  contemptuous 
mode  of  address ;  II.  ii.  48. 

Good-years,  supposed  to  be  cor- 
rupted from  goujere,  the 
French  disease  (Quartos, 
"good'';  Theobald,  "  good- 
jers  " ;  Hanmer,  ''  gou- 
jeres")  ;  V.  iii.  24. 

Got,  begot ;  II.  i.  80. 

Go /o,  an  exclamation ;  III.  iii.  8. 

Govern,  restrain;  V.  iii.  161, 

Graced,  dignified  (Quartos, 
"'  great")  ;  I.  iv.  267. 

Greet  the  time,  "be  ready  to 
greet  the  occasion ;  V.  i.  54. 

Gross,  large;  IV.  vi.  14. 

Grossly;  "  palpably,  evidently  " ; 
I.  i.  295. 

Grow  out  of  heels,  reduced  to 
poor  condition  {cp.  ''out  at 
elbows  ")  ;  II.  ii.  164. 


Guardians;  "my  g.,"  the  guar- 
dians under  me  of  my  realm ; 
II.  iv.  254. 

Habit,  dress,  garb;  V.  iii.  188. 

Halcyon,  kingfisher  ("a  lytle 
byrde  called  the  King's 
Fysher,  being  hanged  up  in 
the  ayre  by  the  neck,  his 
nebbe  or  byll  wyll  be  alwayes 
dyrect  or  strayght  against 
ye  winde  " — Thomas  Lupton, 
Notable  Things,  B.  x.)  ;  II. 
ii.  84. 

Half-blooded,  partly  of  noble, 
partly  of  mean  birth;  V.  iii. 
80. 

Handy-dandy,  the  children's 
game  ;  "  which  hand  will  you 
have?";  IV.  vi.  157. 

Hap;  "what  will  h.,"  let  what 
will  happen;  III.  vi.  121. 

Haply,  perhaps;  I.  i.  102. 

Happy,  fortunate;  II.  iii.  2. 

Hatch,  half-door;  III.  vi.  76. 

Headier;  "  more  h.,"  more 
headstrong,  impetuous ;  II. 
iv.  III. 

Head-lugg'd,  led  by  the  head; 
IV.  ii.  42. 

Heat;  "  1  the  heat,"  a  reference 
probably  to  the  proverb, 
"  Strike  the  iron  while  it  is 
hot";  I.  i.  312. 

Hecate  (dissyllabic)  ;  (Quartos 
and  Folio  i,  "Heccat";  Fo- 
lio 2,  "  Hecat")  ;  I.  i.  112. 

Hell-hated,  "  abhorred  like 
hell  "  ;  V.  iii.  147. 

Helps,  heals,  cures;  IV.  iv.  10. 

Here  (used  substantively)  ;  I. 
i.  264. 


iS8 


KING   LEAR 


Glossary 


High-engender' d,  engendered 
on  high,  in  the  heavens ;  III. 
ii.  2Z. 

Him,  himself;  V.  iii.  213. 

Hit,  agree,  be  of  one  mind 
(Folios,  "sit")  ;  I.  i.  307. 

Hold,   keep,    maintain ;    II.    iv. 

245. 

Holp,  helped;  III.  vii.  62. 

Home,  thoroughly,  vitally;  III. 
iii.  13. 

Honour  d,  honourable ;  V.  i.  9. 

Hopdance,  the  name  of  a  fiend 
(probably  " Hoherdidance") ; 
(Quartos,  "  Hoppedance" ', 
Capell,  "Hopdance");  III. 
vi.  32. 

Horn;  "  Poor  Tom,  thy  horn  is 
dry";  III.  vi.  79.'  {Cp.  illus- 
tration and  see  Notes.) 


From  the  portrait  of  the  knave, 
Mull'd  Sack. 

Horse's  health,  alluding  to  the 
belief  that  "  a  horse  is  above 


all  other  animals  subject  to 
disease"  (Johnson);  III.  vi. 
20. 

Hot-blooded,  passionate;  II.  iv. 
215- 

House;  "  the  h.,"  i.e.  "  the  or- 
der of  families,  the  duties  of 
relation  "  ;  (Theobald  "  the 
user";  Collier  MS.,  "the 
mouth? ")  ;  II.  iv.  155. 

Howe'er,  although  ;  IV.  ii.  66. 

Hundred-pound,  used  as  a  term 
of  reproach  for  a  person  who 
had  saved  just  enough  to 
pose  as  a  gentleman ;  II.  ii. 
17- 

Hurricanoes,  water-spouts  (Fo- 
lios 2,  3,  4,  "  Hurricano's" ; 
Folio  I,  "  Hyrricano's" ; 
Quartos  i,  2,  ''  Hircanios  " ; 
Quarto     3.     "  Hercantos")  ; 

III.  ii.  2. 

Hysterica  passio,  hysteria 
(Quartos,  Folios  i,  2,  "  His- 
torica  passio " ;  Folio  3, 
''  Hystorica  passio  ")  ;  II.  iv. 
56. 

Idle,  foolish,  silly ;  I.  iii.  17. 

,  worthless ;  IV.  iv.  5. 

///  affected,  evilly  disposed ;  II. 

i.  100. 
Images,  signs ;  II.  iv.  91. 
Immediacy,  being  immediately 

next  in  authority;  V.  iii.  65. 
Impertinency,  that  which  is  not 

to  the  point ;  IV.  vi.  179. 
Important,  importunate;  IV.  iv. 

26. 
Impossibilities;      "men's      i.," 

things    impossible    to    man; 

IV.  vi.  74. 


159 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Impress'd,  pressed  into  our 
service ;  V.  iii.  50. 

In,  at,  I.  iv.  350 ;  into,  IV.  i.  77. 

Incense,  incite,  instigate;  11.  iv. 
309. 

Incite,  impel ;  IV.  iv.  27. 

Infect,  pollute,  poison ;  II.  iv. 
168. 

Influence  (used  as  astrological 
term)  ;  I.  ii.  136. 

Ingenious,  intelligent,  con- 
scious; IV.  vi.  287. 

Ingrateful,  ungrateful ;  II.  iv. 
165. 

Innocent,  idiot  (addressed  to 
the  fool);  III.  vi.  8. 

Intelligent,  bearing  intelli- 
gence; (Quartos,  "intelli- 
gence") ;  III.  vii.  12. 

Intend  upon,  i.e.  intend  to  con- 
fer upon ;  V.  i.  7. 

Intent,  intention ;  I.  i.  39. 

Intent;  "  made  i.,"  intention, 
plan  I  had  formed  (Collier 
MS.,  "main  i.")  ;  IV.  vii.  9. 

Interess'd,  interested  (Folios, 
"interest")  ;  I.  i.  87. 

Interlude;  properly,  a  short 
play  performed  during  a 
banquet ;  used  loosely  for  a 
comedy  or  farce;  V.  iii.  89. 

Intrinse,  tightly  drawn;  II.  ii. 
81. 

Invade,  pierce,  penetrate  into ; 
I.  i.  146. 

Invades,  penetrates ;   III.  iv.  7. 

It,  its ;  I.  iv.  236. 

It  is,  it  is  true ;  IV.  vi.  144. 

Jakes,  privy;  II.  ii.  72. 
Jealous,  suspicious ;  V.  i.  56. 


Joint-stool,  a  folding-chair 
(used  in  proverbial  expres- 
sion, "  I  took  you  for  a  joint- 
stool  ")  ;  III.  vi.  54. 

Judicious,  judicial;  III.  iv.  y6. 

Justicer,  justice  (Theobald's 
emendation  ;  Quartos,  "  ius- 
tice")  ;  III.  vi.  23. 

Knapped,        cracked,        tapped 
(Quartos,    "rapt");    II.    iv. 
^125. 

Knee,  kneel  down  before;  II. 
iv.  217. 

Lag  of,  later  than ;  I.  ii.  6. 

Lanced,  cut  (Theobald's  emen- 
dation; Quartos,  "  launcht" 
and  "  lancht " ;  Folios, 
"  latch' d")  ;  II.  i.  54. 

Lances,  i.e.  soldiers  carrying 
lances,  lancers ;  V.  iii.  50. 

Late,  lately;  I.  iv.  226;  III.  iv. 
173. 

,  "  of  1.,"  lately ;  II.  iv.  40. 

Least,  "  in  the  1.,"  at  the  least ; 
I.  i.  194; 

Leave,  with  your  permission ; 
IV.  vi.  264. 

Light  of  ear,  foolishly  credu- 
lous ;  III.  iv.  95. 

Lights  on,  comes  across  his 
path;  III.  i.  54. 

Like,  please ;  I.  i.  203. 

,  likely ;  I.  i.  304. 

Likes,  pleases ;  II.  ii.  96. 

Lily-livered,  white-livered,  cow- 
ardly; II.  ii.  18. 

Lipsbury  pinfold;  perhaps  a 
coined  name  =  the  teeth,  as 
being  the  pinfold,  or  pound, 
within  the  lips  (Nares)  ;  II. 
ii.  9.. 


160 


KING  LEAR 


Glossary 


List,  please;  V.  iii.  6i. 

,  listen  to;  V.  iii.  i8i. 

Litter,  couch  for  carrying  sick 
persons  and  ladies  when 
travelling;  III.  vi.  97. 

Living,  possessions;  I.  iv.  120. 

Loathly,  with  abhorrence ;  II.  i. 
51-^ 

Look'd  for,  expected;  II.  iv. 
235. 

Loop'd,  full  of  holes  (loop- 
holes) ;  III.  iv.  31. 

Luxury,  lust;  IV.  vi.  119. 

Lym,  bloodhound  led  in  a  line 
of  leash  (Hanmer's  correc- 
tion ;  Quartos  i,  3,  "  Uim  "  ; 
Quarto  2,  "  Him  " ;  Folios, 
"  Hym  "  ;  Collier  MS., 
"Trim");  III.  vi.  -72. 

Madded,  maddened;  IV.  ii.  43. 

Mahu,  a  name  in  Harsnet's 
category  of  devils;  III.  iv. 
149. 

Main,  sea,  ocean  (  ?  mainland) ; 
III.  i.  6. 

Mainly,  mightily;  IV.  vii.  65. 

Make  from,  get  out  of  the  way 
of;  I.  i.  145. 

Makes  up,  decides ;  I.  i.  209. 

Mate;  "  one  self  m,  and  m.," 
the  same  husband  and  wife, 
one  and  the  same  pair ;  IV. 
iii.  36. 

Material,  forming  the  substance 
(Theobald,  ''maternal" ;  Col- 
lier conj.  "natural")  ;  IV.  ii. 
35- 

Matter,  cause  of  quarrel ;  II.  ii. 
47. 

,  meaning,  good  sense;  IV. 

vi.  179. 


Matter;  "  no  m.,"  does  not  mat- 
ter; I.  iii,  23. 

Maugre,  in  spite  of;  V.  iii.  131. 

Means,  resources ;  IV.  i.  22. 

Meet,  good,  fit ;  I.  ii.  97. 

Meiny,  household,  retinue  (Fo- 
lios I,  2,  "  meiney  "  ;  Quar- 
tos, "men")  ;  II.  iv.  35. 

Memories,  memorials ;  IV.  vii. 
7- 

Merit,  =  desert,  in  a  bad  sense ; 
III.  v.  8. 

Merlin,  the  ancient  magician  of 
the  Arthurian  romance;  III. 
ii.  95. 

Mew,  (v.  note)  ;  IV.  ii.  68. 

Milk-livered,  faint-hearted ;  IV. 
ii.  50. 

Minikin;  "  m.  mouth,"  i.e. 
pretty  little  mouth;  III.  vi. 
45. 

Miscarried,  lost ;  V.  i.  5. 

Miscarry,  lose ;  V.  i.  44. 

Mischief;  "  with  the  m.  of  your 
person,"  with  harm  to  your 
life  (Hanmer,  "without"; 
Johnson  conj.  "but  with")  ; 
I.  ii.  178. 

Misconstruction;  "upon  his 
m.,"  through  his  misunder- 
standing me;  II,  ii.  124. 

Miscreant,  vile  wretch,  (?) 
misbeliever  (Quartos,  "recre- 
ant") ;  I.  i.  163. 

Modest,  becoming;  II.  iv.  25. 

,  moderate ;  IV.  vii.  5. 

Modo,  a  name  from  Harsnet's 
category  of  devils ;  III.  iv. 
148. 

Moiety,  share,  portion ;  I.  i.  7, 

Monsters,  makes  monstrous ;  I. 
i.  223. 


161 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Moonshines,  months;  I.  ii.  5. 

Mopping  and  mowing,  i.e.  ma- 
king grimaces  (Theobald's 
emendation  ;  Quartos,  "  Mo- 
bing,  and  mohing")  ;  IV.  i. 
64. 

Moral,  moraHzing;  IV.  ii.  58. 

MortiHed,  insensible;  II.  iii.  15. 

Mother,  i.e.  Hysterica  passio, 
hysteria ;  II.  iv.  56. 

Motion,  thrust,  impulse;  II.  i. 
52. 

Motley,  the  parti-coloured 
dress  of  the  fool  or  jester;  I. 
iv.  160. 

Mouths;  "  made  m.,"  made 
grimaces;  III.  ii.  z^. 

Much,  great;  II.  ii.  148. 

Mumbling  of,  mumbling 
(Quartos,  "warbling")  ;  II. 
i.  41. 

Natural,  used  in  the  two  senses 
of  the  word;  II.  i.  86. 

Naught,  naughty,  wicked ;  II. 
iv.  136.  « 

Naughty,  bad;  III.  iv.  115. 

Neat,  finical,  foppish,  spruce; 
II.  ii.  45. 

Need  of,  have  need  of,  need; 
II.  iv.  241. 

Nero  (Upton  conj.  ''  Trajan," 
because,  according  to  Rabe- 
lais, Nero  is  a  fiddler  in  hell, 
and  Trajan  a  fisher  of 
frogs)  ;  III.  vi.  7. 

Nether,  committed  on  earth ; 
IV.  ii.  79. 

Nether-stocks,  short  stockings 
(Quarto  2,  "  ncather- 
stockes")  ;  II.  iv.  11. 


Nicely,  with  the  greatest  exact- 
ness ;  II.  ii.  no. 

Nighted,  darkened;  IV.  v.  13. 

Nine-fold,  "  nine  imps  "  (  ?  ^ 
nine  foals)  ;  III.  iv.  126. 

Noiseless,  devoid  of  noise  be- 
tokening preparations  for 
war;  IV.  ii.  56. 

Nor,  neither;  III.  ii.  15. 

Note;  "  take  this  n.,"  take  note 
of  this,  observe  this;  IV.  v. 
29. 

,  notice ;  II.  i.  85. 

Noted,  noticed;  I.  iv.  81, 

Nothing;  "In.  am,"  I  cease  to 
be;  II.  iii.  21. 

"Nothing  will  come  of  noth- 
ing," an  allusion  to  the  old 
proverb,  "  ex  nihilo  nihil 
at" ;  I.  i.  92. 

Notice,  attention,  countenance; 
II.  iv.  252. 

Notion,  intellectual  power, 
mind ;  I.  iv.  248. 

Nuncle,  "  the  customary  ad- 
dress of  a  licensed  fool  to  his 
superiors  " ;  I.  iv.  117. 

Nursery,  nursing;  I.  i.  126. 

Object;  "your  best  o.,"  the 
delight  of  your  eye " ;  I.  i. 
217. 

Obscured,  disguised ;  II.  ii.  175. 

Observants,  obsequious  cour- 
tiers ;  II.  ii.  109. 

Occasions,  causes;  II.  i.  122. 

OEillades,  glances  of  the  eye 
(Quartos,  "  aliads";  Folio  i, 
"  Eliads " ;  Folios  2,  3,  4, 
"Iliads");  IV.  V.  25. 

O'crlook,  read  over;  V.  i.  50. 


162 


KING   LEAR 


Glossary 


O'er-looking,  looking  over ;  I. 
ii.  40. 

O'erpaid,  to  be  overpaid ;  IV. 
vii.  4. 

O'er-read,  read  over;  I.  ii.  38. 

O'er-watch'd,  worn  out,  ex- 
hausted with  watching;  II.  ii. 
177. 

Of,  from;  IV.  vii.  31. 

Offend,  injure;  I.  i.  310. 

Office,  duty,  service;  II.  iv.  107. 

'Old,  wold;  III.  iv.  125. 

Oldness,  old  age;  I.  ii.  50. 

On,  of,  1.  i.  144;  III.  vi.  57;  V. 
iii.  250. 

,  at ;  II.  ii.  28. 

,  "  our  wishes  on  the  way," 

i.e.  expressed  to  each  other 
on  the  way  hither ;  IV.  ii.  14. 

On't,  of  it;  II.  i.  29. 

Ope,  open ;  V.  i.  40. 

Operative,  effective ;  IV.  iv.  14. 

Oppose;  "make  c,"  compel  to 
fight  against  us;  V.  i.  2y. 

Opposeless,  not  to  be  opposed, 
irresistible;  IV.  vi.  38. 

Opposite,   adverse,   hostile;    II. 

i.  51- 
Opposites,  opponents ;  V.  iii.  42. 
Ordinance,   divine   law;   IV.   i. 

71- 

Or  ere,  before;  II.  iv.  289. 

Other,  others;  I.  iv.  221. 

Out,  abroad;  I.  i.  33. 

Out-wall,  outward  appearance ; 
III.  i.  45. 

Overture,  opening,  disclosure; 
III.  vii.  89. 

O,  well  flown  bird!  a  phrase 
taken  from  falconry,  here 
used  figuratively  for  an  ar- 
row ;  IV.  vi.  92. 


Owes,  possesses ;  I.  i.  205, 
Owest,  dost  own ;  I.  iv.  133. 

Pack,  make  off;  II.  iv.  81. 

Packings,  plottings ;  III.  i.  26. 

Packs,  confederacies ;  V.  iii.  18. 

Pain,  pains,  labour,  lies;  III.  i. 
53. 

'Parel,  apparel ;  IV.  i.  51. 

Particular;  "  for  his  p.,"  as  re- 
gards himself  personally;  II. 
iv.  295. 

,  personal ;  V.  i.  30. 

Party,  side  (Quartos  ""Lo^y '')  ; 
IV.  V.  40. 

Party;  "  intelligent  p.,"  party 
intelligent  to ;  III.  v.  12. 

,    "  upon    his    p.,"    on    his 

side;  II.  i.  28. 

Pass,  pass  away,  die ;  IV.  vi.  47. 

Pass  upon,  pass  sentence  upon ; 
III.  vii.  24. 

Pat,  just  to  the  purpose,  in  the 
nick  of  time;  I.  ii.  146. 

Pazvn,  a  stake  hazarded  in  a 
wager;  I.  i.  157. 

Pawn  down,  pledge;  I.  ii.  92. 

Peace,  hold  its  peace;  IV.  vi. 
104. 

Pelican;  the  pelican  is  supposed 
to  feed  her  young  with  her 
own  blood ;  III.  iv.  yy. 

Pelting,  paltry;  II.  iii.  18. 

Pendulous,  hanging,  impend- 
ing; III.  iv.  69. 

Perdu,  lost  one ;  IV.  vii.  35. 

Perdy,  a  corruption  of  Fr.  par 
Dieu ;  II.  iv.  85. 

Perfect,  mature ;  I.  ii.  yy. 

Perforce,  of  necessity ;  IV.  ii. 
49. 


163 


Glossary 


THE   TRAGEDY   OF 


Period,  end,  termination  ;  V.  iii. 
204. 

Persever,  the  older  pronuncia- 
tion of  the  word  persevere ; 
III.  V.  21. 

Persian  attire,  alluding  to  the 
gorgeous  robes  of  the  East 
(used  ironically)  ;  (Folios, 
"Persian")  ;  III.  vi.  85. 

Piece,  master-piece,  model ;  IV. 
vi.  137. 

Pieced,  added;  I.  i.  202. 

Pight,  firmly  resolved ;  II.  i.  67. 


Plate,  "  clothe  in  plate  armour  " 
(Folios,  "  place  "  ;  corrected 
by  Theobald)  ;  IV.  vi.  169. 

Plight,  troth-plight;  I.  i.  103. 

Plumed  helm;  IV.  ii.  57.  Cp. 
the  annexed  cut  from  a  print 
depicting  the  triumph  of  the 
Emperor  Maximilian  I.,  c. 
15 19.  The  second  illustration 
shows  the  socket  (a)  in 
which  the  plume  was  held, 
and  is  from  a  specimen  in  the 
Londesborough  collection. 


Pillicock,   properly   a   term    of       Point;  "at  p.,"  ready  for  any 


endearment  used  in  old  nur- 
sery rhymes ;  suggested  by 
"pelican";  III.  iv.  78. 

Plackets,  part  of  a  woman's  at- 
tire; III.  iv.  100. 

Plague;  "  stand  in  the  p.  of," 
perhaps,  be  plagued  by 
(Warburton,  "plage"  — 
place;  Simpson  conj.  "place," 
etc.)  ;  I.  ii.  3. 

Plain,  complain ;  III.  i.  39. 

Plaited,  folded    (Quartos   i,  2, 

.  "pleated";  Folios,  "plight- 
ed")', I.  i.  283. 


emergency ;  I.  iv.  347. 
,  "  at  p.,"  on  the  point  of, 

prepared;  III.  i.  2)3- 
Poise,  moment    (Quartos  2,  3, 

Folios,     "  prise  " ;     Hanmer, 

"piese");  II.  i.  122. 
Policy  and  reverence;  "  policy 

of     holding     in     reverence " 

(Schmidt)  ;  I.  ii.  48. 
Port,  harbour;  II.  iii.  3. 
Portable,  bearable;  III.  vi.  115. 
Ports,  gates,  (  ?)  harbours ;  II. 

i.  82. 
Potency,  power;  I.  i.  175. 


164 


KING  LEAR 


Glossary 


Potential,  powerful;  11.  i.  78. 
Pother,  turmoil ;  III.  ii.  50. 
Power,  armed  force;  III.  i.  30. 
Practice,    plotting,    stratagem ; 

II.  i.  75. 

,  stratagem,  artifice;  II.  iv. 

116. 
Practices,  plots ;  I.  ii.  198. 
Practised   on,   plotted  against ; 

III.  ii.  57- 
Predominance,  influence;  I.  ii. 

134. 
Prefer,  recommend ;  I.  i.  277. 
Pregnant,  ready,  easily  moved; 

II.  i.  78;  IV.  vi.  227. 
Presently,    immediately;    I.    ii. 

109. 
Press-money,  money  given  to  a 

soldier    when    pressed    into 

service;  IV.  vi.  87. 
Pretence,  intention,  purpose ;  I. 

ii.  95. 
,  "  very  p.,"   deliberate  in- 

tion ;  I.  iv.  75. 
Prevent,     to     anticipate      and 

checkmate;  III.  iv.  164. 
Proceedings,  course  of  action ; 

V.  i.  2,2. 
Profess,     pretend;      (?)     with 

play    upon    "  profess  "  =  "  to 

set  up  for  "  ;  I.  iv.  14. 
;     *' what     dost    thou    p.," 

what  is  thy  trade,  profession ; 

I.  iv.  12. 
Professed,  full  of  professions ; 

I.  i.  275. 
Proper,  handsome ;  I.  i.  18. 
,  "  p.  deformity,"  moral  de- 
pravity  which   is   natural   to 

him  {i.e.  the  fiend)  ;  IV.  ii.  60. 
Puissant,  powerful,  masterful; 

V.  iii.  216. 


Puppet,  used  perhaps  contemp- 
tuously for  a  wanton ;  II.  ii. 

39. 
Pur,    imitation    of    the    noise 

made  by  a  cat  (but  "  Purre  " 

also  the  name  of  a  devil   in 

Harsnet)  ;  III.  vi.  47. 
Put  on,  encourage;  I.  iv.  227. 
,  incited  to;  II.  i.  loi. 

Quality,  nature,  disposition ;  II. 
iv.  93 ;  II.  iv.  139. 

Quality,  rank;  V.  iii.  no,  120. 

Queasy,  ticklish ;  II.  i.  19. 

Question,  matter,  cause;  V.  iii. 
58. 

,  "  bear  q.,"  bear  to  be  ar- 
gued about;  V.  iii.  2>2>- 

Questrists,  searchers ;   III.  vii. 

17. 

Quicken,  come  to  life;  III.  vii. 

39. 

Quit,  requite,  revenge ;  III.  vii. 
87. 

Quit  you,  acquit  yourself;  II.  i. 
32. 

Raging,  angry,  furious  (Folios, 
"roaring");  III.  iv.   10. 

Rake  up,  cover  with  earth ;  IV. 
vi.  281. 

Rank,  gross,  flagrant;  I.  iv.  223. 

Rased,  erased ;  I.  iv.  4. 

Reason,  argue ;  II.  iv.  267. 

Reason' d,  argued,  talked  about; 
V.  i.  28. 

Regards,  considerations  (Quar- 
tos, "respects")  ;  I.  i.  242. 

Remediate,  healing;  IV.  iv.  17. 

Remember ;  "  r.  thyself,"  con- 
fess thy  sins ;  IV.  vi.  233. 

Rememberest,  remindest;  I.  iv. 
72. 


165 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


Remorse,  compassion,  pity ;  IV. 
ii.  73- 

Remotion,  removal;  II.  iv.  115. 

Remove,  removal ;  II.  iv.  4. 

Renege,  deny  (Folio  i,  "  Re- 
uenge " ;  Schmidt,  "  Re- 
negue")  ;  II.  ii.  84. 

Repeals,  recalls ;  III.  vi.  120. 

Reposure,  attributing;  the  act 
of  reposing  (Quartos,  "  could 
the  reposure " ;  Folios, 
"would  the  reposal")  ;  II.  i. 
70. 

Reproveable,  blameable ;  III.  v. 
9. 

Resolution;  "  due  r.,"  freedom 
from  doubt ;  I.  ii.  108. 

Resolve  me,  tell  me,  satisfy  me ; 
II.  iv.  25. 

Respect;  "  do  r.,"  show  respect, 
reverence  (Folios,  "re- 
spects") ;  II.  ii.  137. 

,    "  upon    r.,"    deliberately ; 

II.  iv.  24. 

Respects,  consideration,  mo- 
tive; I.  i.  251, 

Rest;  "  set  my  r.,"  repose  my- 
self (derived  probably  from 
the  game  of  cards  =  to  stand 
upon  the  cards  in  one's 
hand)  ;  I.  i.  125. 

Retention,  custody;  V.  iii.  47. 

Return;  "make  r.,"  return;  II. 
iv.  153- 

Revenging,  avenging,  taking 
vengeance  (Quartos,  '' re- 
uengiue")  ;  II.  i.  47. 

Reverhs,  reverberates,  re- 
echoes; I.  i.  156. 

Reverend,  old  (Quarto  2,  "vn- 
reuerent")  ;  II.  ii.  133. 


Rich'd,  enriched;  I.  i.  65. 

Rings,  sockets ;  V.  iii.  189. 

Ripeness,  readiness;  V.  ii.  11. 

Rivall'd;  "  hath  r.,"  hath  been  a 
rival ;  I.  i.  194. 

Roundest,  most  direct,  plain- 
est; I.  iv.  58. 

Rubb'd,  hindered  (a  term  in 
the  game  of  bowls)  ;  II.  ii. 
161. 

RufHe;  "  do  r.,"  are  boisterous 
(Quartos,  "  russel,  "  rus- 
sell";  Capell,  "rustle");  II. 
iv.  304- 

Safer,  sounder,  more  sober ; 
IV.  vi.  81. 

Saint  Wit  ho  Id,  a  corruption  of 
Saint  Vitalis,  who  was  sup- 
posed to  protect  from  night- 
mare (Quartos,  "swithald"; 
Folios,  "  swithold")  ;  III.  iv. 
125. 

Sallets,  sallads ;  III.  iv.  137. 

Salt;  "  a  man  of  s.,"  a  man  of 
tears ;  IV.  vi.  199. 

Satnphire,   sea-fennel ;    IV.    vi. 

15. 
Save  thee,  God  save  thee ;   II. 

i.  I. 
Savour  hut,  have  only  a  relish 

for;  IV.  ii.  39. 
Saw,    saying,    proverb;    II.    ii. 

167. 
Say,      assay,      proof       (Pope, 

'"say")  ;  V.  iii.  143. 
Scant,  fall  short  in ;  II.  iv.  142. 

,  diminish ;  II.  iv.  178. 

Scanted,  grudged ;  I.  i.  281. 
Scatter'd,  disunited ;  III.  i.  31. 
Scythian,  considered  as  a  type 

of  cruelty;  I.  i.  118. 


166 


KING  LEAR 


Glossary 


Sea-monster,  perhaps  an  allu- 
sion to  the  hippopotamus  or 
the  whale ;  I.  iv.  283. 

Sectary,  disciple ;  I.  ii.  164. 

Secure,  make  careless  ;  IV.  i.  22. 

Seeming,  hypocrisy;  III.  Ii.  56. 

,  "  little  seeming,"  seem- 
ingly small,  little  in  appear- 
ance; I.  i.  201. 

Self,  self-same;  I.  i.  70. 

Self -cover' d;  "  thou  s.  thing," 
thou  who  a  woman  hast  dis- 
guised thyself  in  this  diabol- 
ical shape  (Theobald,  "  self- 
converted  " ;  Crosby,  "  sex- 
cover' d"^  ;  IV.  ii.  62. 

Sennet,  a  set  of  notes  on  the 
cornet  or  trumpet;  I.  i.  34- 
35,  Stage  Direc. 

Sequent,  consequent,  following; 
I.  ii.  lis. 

Servant,  lover;  IV.  vi.  275. 

Sessa,  onward !  (probably  a 
hunting  term)  ;  III.  vi.  77. 

Set,  stake,  wager;  I.  iv.  136. 

Settling;  "till  further  s.,"  till 
his  mind  is  more  composed; 
IV.  vii.  82. 

Seven  stars,  the  Pleiades ;  I.  v. 
38. 

Shadowy,  shady  (Quartos, 
"shady")  ;  I.  i.  65. 

Shealed  peascod,  shelled  pea- 
pod;  I.  iv.  219. 

Shows,  seems,  appears;  I.  iv. 
265. 

Shrill-gorged,  shrill-throated ; 
IV.  vi.  58. 

Simple ;  "  simple  answerer," 
simply  answerer  (Folios, 
"simple  answer' d  ")  ;  III.  vii. 
43. 


Simples,  medicinal  herbs ;  IV. 
iv.  14. 

Simular;  "  s.  man  of  virtue," 
man  who  counterfeitest  vir- 
tue; III.  ii.  54. 

Sir,  man  ("that  sir  which," 
Folio  4,  "  that,  sir,  which  ")  ; 
II.  iv.  78. 

Sith,  since  (Quartos,  "since"); 
I.  i.  183. 

Sises,  allowance ;  II.  iv,  178. 

Slack  you,  neglect  their  duty  to 
you;  II.  iv.  248. 

Slaves,  treats  as  a  slave  ("by 
making  it  subservient  to  his 
views  of  pleasure  or  inter- 
est")  ;  IV.  i.  71. 

Sleep  out,  sleep  away  (Quarto 
I,  "sleep  ont")  ;  II.  ii.  163. 

Sliver,  tear  off  like  a  branch 
from  a  tree;  IV.  ii.  34. 

Smile,  smile  at,  laugh  to 
scorn  (Folios  and  Quartos, 
"  smoile"  or  "  snioyle  ")  ;  II. 
ii.  88. 

Smilets,  smiles;  IV.  iii.  21. 

Smooth,  flatter,  humour;  II,  ii, 
81. 

Smug,  trim,  spruce ;  IV.  vi.  202. 

Smulking,  a  fiend's  name,  bor- 
rowed from  Harsnet's  cate- 
gory of  devils  (Quartos, 
"  snulhug"',  Theobald, 
"  Smolkin")  ;  III.  iv.  146. 

Snuff,  flickering  old  age ;  IV. 
vi.  39- 

Snuffs,  quarrels,  "huffs";  III. 
i.  26. 

So,  so  be  it ;  II.  ii.  106. 

Soiled;  "  s.  horse,"  said  of  "  a 
horse  turned  out  in  the 
spring  to  take  the  first  flush 
of  grass  " ;  IV.  vi.  124. 


167 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY   OF 


Something,  somewhat;  I.  i.  21. 

Some,  someone ;  III.  i.  37. 

Sometime,  once,  former;  I.  i. 
122. 

,     sometimes     ( Folios, 

"sometimes")  ;  II.  iii.  19. 

Soothe,  humour ;  III.  iv.  182. 

Sophisticated,  adulterated,  not 
genuine;  III.  iv.  no. 

Sop  o'  the  Moonshine;  prob- 
ably alluding  to  the  dish 
called  eggs  in  moonshine,  i.e. 
"  eggs  broken  and  boiled  in 
salad-oil  till  the  yolks  became 
hard;  they  were  eaten  with 
slices  of  onion  fried  in  oil, 
butter,  verjuice,  nutmeg,  and 
salt  "  ;  II.  ii.  34. 

Sot,  blockhead;  IV.  ii.  8. 

Space,  i.e.  "  space  in  general, 
the  world  "  ;  I.  i.  57. 

Speak  for,  call  for ;  I.  iv.  267. 

Speculations,  scouts  (Johnson, 
"speculators" ;  Collier  MS., 
"spectators")  ;  III.  i.  24. 

Speed  you,  God  speed  you ;  IV. 
vi.  212. 

Spherical,  planetary  (Quartos, 
"spiritual")  ;  I.  ii.  134. 

Spill,  destroy;  III.  ii.  8. 

Spite  of  intermission,  in  spite 
of  interruption ;  II.  iv.  2i3- 

Spoil,  wasting,  ruining ;  II.  i. 
102. 

Spurs,  incentives,  incitements 
(Folios,  "spirits")  ;  II.  i.  78. 

Square;  "the  most  precious  s. 
of  sense,"  i.e.  "  the  most  deli- 
cately sensitive  part  " 
(Wright)  ;  I.  i.  75. 

Squints,  makes  to  squint;  III. 
iv.  122. 


Squiny,  squint ;  IV.  vi.  140. 

Squire-like,  like  a  squire,  at- 
tendant; II.  iv.  217. 

Stands;  "  s.  on  the  hourly 
thought,"  is  hourly  expected ; 

IV.  vi.  218. 

Stand's,  stands  his  (Quartos  2, 
3,  "stand  his";  Folios, 
"  stand  "}  ;  II.  i.  42. 

Stands  on,  it  becomes,  is  in- 
cumbers on ;  V.  i.  69. 

Star-blasting,  blighting  by  the 
influence  of  the  stars;  III.  iv. 
60. 

Stelled,  starry;  III.  vii.  61. 

Still,  continually,  always ;  III. 
iv.  181. 

Still-soliciting,  ever  begging;  I. 
i.  234. 

Stirs;  "who  s.?"  does  no  one 
stir?;  I.  i.  128. 

Stock' d,  put  in  the  stocks  (Fo- 
lios, "stockt";  Quarto  i, 
"struck";  Quartos  2,  3, 
"  strucke")  ;  II.  iv.  191. 

Stocking,  putting  in  the  stocks 
(Quartos  "Stopping");  II. 
ii.  139. 

Stock-punished,  punished  by 
being  set  in  the  stocks  (Fo- 
lios, "stockt,  punish'd")  ; 
III.  iv.  140. 

Stomach,     anger,     resentment ; 

V.  iii.  74. 

Stone,  crystal ;  V.  iii.  262. 

Straight,  straightway,  immedi- 
ately ;  II.  iv.  35. 

Strain,  descent,  race ;  V.  iii.  40. 

Strain'd,  excessive  (Quartos, 
"  straied")  ;  I.  i.  172. 

Stranger' d,  estranged;  I.  i.  207. 


168 


KING  LEAR 


Glossary 


Stray;  "  make  such  a  s.,"  go  so 
far  astray;  I.  i.  212. 

Strength;  "in  my  s.,"  with 
power  from  me,  with  my  au- 
thority; II.  i.  114. 

Strings  of  life,  heart-strings ; 
V.  iii.  216. 

Strong  and  fasten'd,  deter- 
mined and  hardened  (so 
Quartos ;  Folios,  "  O  strange 
and  fast'ned")  ;  II.  i.  79. 

Subscribed,  surrendered  (Fo- 
lios, "  Prescrib'd")  ;  I.  ii.  24. 

,  forgiven;  III.  vii.  65. 

Subscription,  submission;  III. 
ii.  18. 

Succeed,  come  true,  follow ;  I. 
ii.  156. 

Success;  "  good  s.,"  favourable 
result,  issue ;  V.  iii.  194. 

Sufferance,   suffering;    III.    vi. 

113- 

Suggestion,  prompting,  tempt- 
ing; II.  i.  75. 

Suited,  clad,  dressed ;  IV.  vii.  6. 

Sumpter,  pack-horse,  hence  a 
drudge;  II.  iv.  219. 

Superfluous,  having  too  much ; 
IV.  i.  70. 

Superilux,  superfluity;   III.   iv. 

35. 
Superserviceable,    one    who    is 

above     his     work      (Folios, 

"  superserviceable,     finical " ; 

Quartos,       "  superiinicall")  ; 

II.  ii.  19. 
Supposed,  ■prtt&nded;  V.  iii.  113. 
Sustain,  support ;  V.  iii.  320. 
Sustaining,  nourishing  ;  IV.  iv.  6. 
Swear'st,  swearest  by;  I.  i.  163. 

Taint,  disgrace ;  I.  i.  224. 


Taken,  overtaken ;  I.  iv.  353. 

Taking,  infection;  III.  iv,  61. 

,  "  my  t.,"  to  capture  me ; 

II.  iii.  5. 

,   bewitching,  blasting;    II. 

iv.  166. 

Taking  off,  slaughter,  death ; 
V.  i.  65. 

Taste,  test,  trial ;  I.  ii.  47. 

Tell,  count,  recount;  II.  iv.  55. 

Temperance,  self-restraint, 

calmness ;  IV.  vii.  24. 

Tend,  wait  on ;  II.  iv.  266. 

Tend  upon,  wait  upon;  II.  i.  97. 

Tender,  regard,  care  for ;  I.  iv. 
230. 

Tender-hefted, tenderly  framed; 
II.  iv.  174. 

Terrible,  terrified,  affrighted ; 
I.  ii.  32. 

That,  in  that ;  I.  i.  73. 

There;  "are  you  there  with 
me?"  is  that  what  you 
mean?;  IV.  vi.  148. 

This,  this  time  forth;  I.  i.  118. 

This 's  =:  this  is  (Quartos,  Fo- 
lios, ''this")  ;  IV.  vi.  187. 

Thought-executing ;  "doing ex- 
ecution with  rapidity  equal 
to  thought";  III.  ii.  4. 

Threading,  passing  through 
(like  a  thread  through  the 
eye  of  a  needle)  ;  (Folios, 
"  thredding  "  ',  Quartos, 
"  threatning  "  ;  Theobald 

conj.  "  treading")  ;  II.  i.  121. 

Three-suited,  used  contemp- 
tuously for  a  beggarly  per- 
son ;  probably,  having  three 
suits  of  apparel  a  year ;  or 
the  allowance  from  a  master 
to  his  servant ;  II.  ii.  16. 


169 


Glossary 


THE   TRAGEDY   OF 


Throughly,  thoroughly;  IV.  vii. 

97- 
Thwart,     perverse      (Quartos, 

"  thourt")  ;  I.  iv.  305. 
Tike,  a  small  dog ;  III.  vi.  JZ- 
Time,  life ;  I.  i.  298. 
Times;  "  best  of  our  t.,"  best 

part  of  our  lives;  I.  ii.  49. 
Tithing,  district,  ward;  III.  iv. 

140. 
To,  as  to;  III.  i.  52. 

,  against ;  IV.  ii.  75. 

,  into;  II.  iv.  120. 

Toad-spotted;     "tainted     and 

polluted  with  venom  like  the 

toad";  V.  iii.  138. 
Tom  o'  Bedlam,  "the  common 

name    of   vagabond   beggars, 

either  mad  or  feigning  to  be 

so  "  ;  I.  ii.  148. 
Took,  taken ;  V.  iii.  105, 
Top,  head;  II.  iv.  165. 
,   overtop,   surpass;   V,   iii. 

207. 
Toward,  at  hand ;  IV.  vi.  213. 
Towards,  to;  I.  i.  193. 
Train,   retinue    (Folios  "  num- 
ber") ;  II.  iv.  62,. 
Tranced,  entranced ;  V.  iii.  218. 
Treachers,    traitors     (Quartos, 

"  Trecherers")  ;  I.  ii.  133. 
Trick,  peculiarity,   characteris- 
tic; IV.  vi.  108. 
TriUe;  "  on  every  tr.,"  on  every 

trifling  opportunity ;  I.  iii.  8. 
Trill' d,  trickled;  IV.  iii.  14. 
Troop  with,  accompany,  follow 

in  the  train  of;  I.  i.  134. 
Trowest,  knowest ;  I.  iv.  135. 
Trumpet,  trumpeter    (Folio    i, 

"  Trumper")  ;  V.  iii.  107. 


Trundle-tail,  a  curly-tailed 
dog;  III.  vi.  7:^. 

Trust,  reliance;  II.  i.  117. 

Tucket,  a  set  of  notes  played 
on  the  trumpet  or  cornet ;  II. 
i.  80-81. 

Tune,  humour;  IV.  iii.  41. 

Turlygod,  a  name  given  to  mad 
beggars ;  possibly  a  corrup- 
tion of  "  Turlupin,"  the  name 
of  a  fraternity  of  naked  beg- 
gars in  the  14th  century 
(Quarto  i,  "  Tuelygod" ; 
Theobald,  "  Turlygood  "  ; 
Warburton  conj.  "  Turlu- 
pin ")  ;  II.  iii.  20. 

Turns;  "  by  due  t.,"  in  turn ;  I. 
i.  137. 

Unaccommodated,  un  supplied 
with  necessaries;  III.  iv.  iii. 

Unbolted,  unsifted,  coarse;  II. 
ii.  71. 

Unbonneted,  with  uncovered 
head;  III.  i.  14. 

Unconstant,  inconstant,  fickle; 
I.  i.  304. 

Undistinguish'd,  indistinguish- 
able, boundless ;  IV.  vi.  278. 

Unkind,  unnatural,  I.  i.  263 ; 
III.  iv.  73. 

Unnumber'd,  innumerable;  IV. 
vi.  21. 

Unpossessing,    landless ;    II,    i. 

69. 
Unprized,  not   appreciated,   or, 

perhaps,  priceless ;  I.  i.  262. 
Unremoveable,  immovable ;  II. 

iv.  94- 
Unsanctiiied,    wicked;    IV.    vi. 

281. 
Unspoke,  unspoken;  I.  i.  239. 


170 


KING  LEAR 


Glossary 


Unstate,   deprive  of   estate;    I. 

ii.  io8. 
Untented,  incurable;  I.  iv.  322. 
Untimely,    inopportunely ;    III. 

vii.  98. 
Upon,  against;  III.  vi.  96. 
Upward,  top ;  V.  iii.  136. 
Usage,  treatment;  II.  iv.  26. 

Validity,  value;  I.  i.  83. 

Vanity  the  Puppet's  Part;  "  al- 
luding to  the  old  moralities 
or  allegorical  plays,  in  which 
Vanity,  Iniquity,  and  other 
vices  were  personified " 
(Johnson)  ;  II.  ii.  39. 

Varlet,  rascal ;  II.  ii.  30- 

Vary,  change;  II.  ii.  85. 

Vaunt-couriers,        forerunners 
(Quartos,    "  vaunt-currers  " 
Folios,       "  Vaunt-curriors" 
Capell,       "  V ant-couriers") 
III.  ii.  5. 

Venge,  avenge;  IV.  ii.  80. 

Villain,  serf,  servant ;  III.  vii. 
78. 

Virtue,  valour ;  V.  iii.  103. 

Vulgar,  commonly  known ;  IV. 
vi.  214. 

Wage,  wage  war,  struggle,  II. 

iv.  212;  stake,  I.  i.  158. 
Wagtail,  the  name  of  a  bird ; 

II.  ii.  72>- 
Wake,  waking;  III.  ii.  34- 
Wall-newt,  lizard;  III.  iv.  135. 
Wash'd;      "  w.      eyes."      eyes 

washed  with  tears;  I.  i.  271. 
Waste,    wasting,    squandering ; 

II.  i.  102. 
Water,  water-newt;  III.  iv.  135. 


Waterish,  abounding  with 
rivers  (used  contemptuous- 
ly) ;  I,  i.  261. 

Wawl,  cry,  wail ;  IV.  vi.  184. 

Ways;  "  come  your  w.,"  come 
on ;  II.  ii.  42. 

Weal;  "wholesome  w.,"  healthy 
commonwealth ;  I.  iv.  230. 

Web  and  the  Pin,  a  disease  of 
the  eye,  cataract;  III.  iv.  122. 

Weeds,  garments,  dress;  IV. 
vii.  7. 

Well-favour'd,  handsome,  good- 
looking;  II.  iv.  259. 

What,  who;  V.  iii.  119. 

Wheel,  the  wheel  of  fortune; 
V.  iii.  174. 

Whelk' d,  swollen,  protruding 
like  whelks;  IV.  vi.  71. 

Where  (used  substantively)  ;  I. 
i.  264. 

,  whereas;  I.  ii.  89. 

Which,  who;  IV.  vi.  215. 

White  Herring,  fresh  herrings 
( ?  pickled  herring,  as  in 
Northern   dialects)  ;    III.   vi. 

Who,  which ;  I.  ii.  53. 

Whoop,  Jug!  I  love  thee,  prob- 
ably a  line  from  an  old  song ; 
I.  iv.  232. 

Wield,  manage,  express;  I.  i. 
56. 

Wind;  "  w.  me  into  him,"  i.e. 
worm  yourself  into  his  con- 
fidence {"me,"  used  redun- 
dantly) ;  I.  ii.  106. 

Window' d,  holes  forming  win- 
dows ;  III.  iv.  31. 

Wisdom  of  nature,  natural 
philosophy;  I.  ii.  113. 


171 


Glossary 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF 


With,  by ;  II.  iv.  256. 

Wits;  "  five  w.,"  the  five  intel- 
lectual powers  (common  wit, 
imagination,  fantasy,  estima- 
tion,  and  memory)  ;   III.  iv. 

59. 

Wont,  accustomed  to  be ;  I.  iv. 
64. 

Wooden  pricks,  skewers;  II. 
iii.  16. 

Word,  pass-word ;  IV.  vi.  93. 

,  word  of  mouth ;  IV.  v.  20. 

Worships,  dignity;  I.  iv.  288. 

Worsted-stocking,  worn  by  the 
lower  classes  and  serving- 
men    in    distinction    to    silk 


ones  which  were  worn  by  the 
gentry;  II.  ii.  15. 

Worth;  "are  w.,"  deserve;  I. 
i.  282. 

Wort  hied  him,  won  him  repu- 
tation; II.  ii.  128. 

Would,  should;  II.  i.  70. 

Writ,  warrant ;  V.  iii.  245. 

Write  happy,  consider  yourself 
fortunate;  V.  ii.  35. 

Wrote,  written ;  I.  ii.  93. 

Yeoman,  a  freeholder  not  ad- 
vanced to  the  rank  of  a  gen- 
tleman; III.  vi.  II. 

Yoke-fellow,  companion ;  III. 
vi.  39. 


Unwhipp'd  of  Justice  (III.  ii.  53). 
From  an  engraving  by  H.  Cock,  c.  1550, 


172 


I 


KING  LEAR 


Critical  Notes. 

BY  ISRAEL  GOLLANCZ. 

I.  i.  40.  'from  our  age' ;  so  Folios;  Quartos,  'of  our  state.' 

I.  i.  41-46.  {'while  we  .  .  .  now');  50-5i»  164;  I-  ii-  18 
{'■fine  word,  legitimate')  ',  48  {'and  reverence')  ;  118-124;  I.  iv, 
6  {'so  may  it  come')  ;  282;  331-342;  omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  i.  54.  'Where  nature  doth  with  merit  challenge.  Goneril'; 
so  Folios.    Quartos  read,  '  Where  merit  doth  most  challenge  it.' 

I.  i.  63.  '  do' ;  so  Quartos ;  Folios  read  '  speak.' 

I.  i.  79.  '  Ponderous ' ;  so  Folios  ;  Quartos,  '  richer.' 

I.  i.  85.  'the  last,  not  least';  so  Quartos;  Folios  read,  'our  last 
and  least.' 

I.  i.  106;  I.  ii.  102-104;  ii-  155-163  {'as  of  unnaturalness  .  .  . 
come');  182  {'go  armed');  I.  iii.  17-21;  24-25;  I.  iv.  154-169; 
239 ;  252-256 ;  omitted  in  Folios. 

I.  i.  112.  'mysteries,'  the  reading  of  Folios  2,  3,  4;  Quartos, 
'  mistress e  ' ;  Folio  i,  '  miseries.' 

I.  i.  148.  '  What  wouldst  thou  do,  old  man?' ;  "This  is  spoken 
on  seeing  his  master  put  his  hand  to  his  sword  "  (Capell)  ;  Folios 
I,  2,  3,  '  wouldest ' ;  Quartos,  '  wilt.' 

I.  i.  151.  'stoops  to  folly';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'falls  to  folly' 
(Folio  3,  'fall  to  folly')  :  'Reverse  thy  doom';  so  Quartos;  Fo- 
lios read,  ' reserue  thy  state' 

I.  i.  169.  'recreant' ;  omitted  in  Quartos. 

I.  i.  176.  '  live ' ;  so  Folios  ;  Quartos,  '  Foure.' 

I.  i.  178.  'sixth';  so  Folios;  Quartos,  ' Hft.' 

I.  i.  191.  This  line  is  given  to  Cordelia  in  Folios. 

I.  i.  236.  '  Better ' ;  so  Folios ;  Quartos,  '  go  to,  go  to,  better.' 

I.  i.  251.  'respects  of  fortune';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'respect 
and  fortunes' 

I.  i.  2^2.  'want';  Quartos,  'worth.'  Theobald  explains  the 
Folio  reading,  "  You  well  deserve  to  meet  with  that  want  of  love 
froiii  your  husband,  which  you  have  professed  to  want  for  our 
Father." 

173 


Notes 


THE   TRAGEDY   OF 


I,  i.  284.  'shame  them  derides';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'with 
shame  derides ' ;  Warburton,  ' with  shame  abides'  etc. 

I.  i.  292.  '  hath  not  been ' ;  so  Quartos ;  Folios,  '  hath  been! 

I.  ii.  10.  So  Folios ;  Quartos  read,  '  zvith  base,  base  bastardie.' 

I.  ii.  21.  'top  the';  Edward's  conj.  of  Quartos  i,  2,  'tooth''; 
Quarto  3,  'tooth';  Folios  i,  2,  '  to'th' ;  Folios  3,  4,  'to  th','  etc. 

I.  ii.  68.  '  that,'  i.e.  the  matter,  contents. 

I.  ii.  III.  "^  These  late  eclipses  in  the  sun  and  moon  portend  no 
good ' ;  V.  Preface. 

I.  ii.  129.  ''  surfeit ' ;  so  Quarto  i ;  Quartos  2,  3,  '  siirfet ' ;  Folios 
I,  2,  3,  '  surfets' ;  Folio  4,  'surfeits' ;  Collier  conj.  'forfeit.' 

I.  ii.  177-183.  'That's  my  fear  .  .  .  Brother'  so  Folios; 
Quartos  read,  'That's  my  feare  brother'  omitting  rest  of  speech. 

I.  iii.  21.  '  With  checks  as  flatteries,  when  they  are  seen 
abused';  Tyrwhitt's  explanation  seems  the  most  plausible,  "with 
checks,  as  well  as  flatterers,  when  they  {i.e.  flatterers)  are  seen  to 
be  abused."  The  emendators  have  been  busy  with  the  line  without 
much  success. 

I.  iv.  loi.  'Kent.  Why,  fool?';  the  reading  of  Quartos;  Folios 
read  '  Lear.     Why  my  Boy? ' 

I.  iv.  158.  *  Ladies ' ;  Capell's  emendation ;  Quartos,  '  lodes ' ; 
Collier,  '  loads.' 

I.  iv.  165.  '  Thou  borest  thine  ass  on  thy  back.'    Cp.  the  annexed 

cut  from  Hans  Sachs's  rhy- 
ming paraphrase  of  the 
well-known  iEsopian  fable, 
c.  1550. 

I.  iv.  236.  'Ha!  waking?' 
Quartos  read  'sleeping  or 
waking;  ha!  sure.' 

II.  i.  11-13.  Omitted  in 
Quartos  2,  3. 

II.  i.  48.  'their  thunders'; 
so  the  Quartos  ;  Folios, '  the 
thunder';  Johnson,  'their 
thunder.' 

II.  i.  60.  '  dispatch  ' ;  i.e. 
'  dispatch  him  ' ;  or  perhaps,  '  dispatch  is  the  word.' 

II.  i.  ^2.  '  what  I  should  deny ' ;  so  Quartos ;  Folios,  *"  What 
should  I  deny';  Rowe,  'by  what  I  should  deny';  Hanmer,  'what 
I'd  deny';  Warburton,  'when  I  should  deny';  Schmidt,  'what, 
should  I  deny.' 


174 


KING   LEAR  Notes 

II.  i.  80.  'I  never  got  him';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  ^ said  he?' 

II.  i.  99.  'of  that  consort' ;  so  Folios;  omitted  in  Quartos. 

II.  i.  102.  '  the  waste  and  spoil  of  his' ;  Quarto  i,  '  the  wast  and 
spoyle  of  his';  Quartos  2,  3,  'these — and  waste  of  this  his'; 
Quarto  i  (Dev.  and  Cap.)  'these — and  waste  of  this  his';  Folio 
I,  '  th'  expense  and  wast  of  his';  Folios  2,  3,  4,  '  th'  expence  and 
wast  off 

11.  ii.  59.  'hours';  Folios,  'years.' 

11.  ii.  75.  'Which  are  too  intrinse  to  unloose';  Folio  i,  'are  f 
intrince';  Folios  2,  3,  4,  'art  t'intrince' ;  Quartos,  'are  to  in- 
trench'; Pope,  'Too  intricate';  Theobald,  'Too  'intrinsecate' ; 
Hanmer,  'too  intrinsick  ' :  'to  unloose';  Folios,  '  t' unloose '  \ 
Quartos,  'to  inloose';  Seymour  conj.  'to  enloose.' 

II.  ii.  142-146.  'His  fault  .  .  .  punish'd  with';  omitted  in 
Folios. 

II.  ii.  146.  'the  king  must  take  it  ill';  Folios  read,  'the  King 
his  Master,  vrcds  must  take  it  ill.' 

II.  ii.  151.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

II.  ii.  162-163.  '  out  of  heaven's  benediction  comest  To  the  warm 
sun';  cp.  Heywood's  Dialogues  on  Proverbs;  'In  your  rennyng 
from  hym  to  me,  ye  runne  out  of  God's  blessing  into  the  warm 
sunne ' ;  i.e.  from  good  to  worse.  Professor  Skeat  suggests  to  me 
that  the  proverb  refers  to  the  haste  of  the  congregation  to  leave 
the  shelter  of  the  church,  immediately  after  the  priest's  benedic- 
tion, running  from  God's  blessing  into  the  warm  sun.  This  ex- 
planation seems  by  far  the  best  that  has  been  suggested. 

II.  ii.  166.  'miracles';  so  Folios;  Quartos  i,  2,  3,  'my  wracke*; 
Quarto  i  (Bodl.),  'my  rackles.' 

II.  ii.  169-171.  'and  shall  .  .  .  remedies';  many  emenda- 
tions have  been  proposed  to  remove  the  obscurity  of  the  lines,  but 
none  can  be  considered  satisfactory.  Kent,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered, is  'all  weary  and  o'erwatched.'  Jennens  suggested  that 
Kent  is  reading  disjointed  fragments  of  Cordelia's  letter.  'From 
this  enormous  state '  seems  to  mean  '  in  this  abnormal  state  of 
affairs.' 

II.  iv.  19-20.  Omitted  in  Folios. 

II.  iv.  99-100;  142-147.  Omitted  in  Quartos. 

II.  iv.  103.  'commands  her  service';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'com- 
mands, tends,  service.' 

II.  iv.  170.  'and  blast  her  pride';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'and 
blister';  Collier  MS.  and  S.  Walker  conj.  'and  blast  her'; 
Schmidt  conj.  'and  blister  pride.' 

175 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

11.  iv.  174.  '  tender-hefted ' ;  so  Folios ;  Quarto  2,  '  tender 
hested';  Quarto  i,  '  teder  hested';  Quarto  3,  'tender  hasted'; 
Rowe  (Ed.  2)  and  Pope,  'tender-hearted' ;  etc. 

II.  iv.  303.  '  bleak  ' ;  so  Quartos  ;  Folios,  '  high.' 

III.  i.  7-15;  vi.  18-59;  104-108  ('oppressed  .  .  .  behind'); 
109-122;  vii.  99-107;  omitted  in  the  Folios. 

III.  i.  22-29;  ii.  79-96;  iv.  17-18;  26-27;  37-38;  vi.  13-16;  92; 
omitted  in  the  Quartos. 

III.  ii.  7.  'smite';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'strike.' 

III.  ii.  9.  'make';  Folios,  'makes.' 

III.  ii.  22.  '  have  .  .  .  join'd  ' ;  the  reading  of  Quartos ;  Fo- 
lios read  '  Tfi//    .    .    .    join.' 

III.  ii.  37.  'No,  I  will  be  the  pattern  of  all  patience';  cp.  the 
description  of  Leir  by  Perillus  in  the  old  play: — 'But  he,  the  myr- 
rour  of  mild  patience.  Puts  up  all  wrongs,  and  never  gives  reply.' 

III.  ii.  64.  'More  harder  than  the  stones';  so  Folios;  Quartos, 
'More  hard  than  is  the  stone.' 

III.  ii,  y^)-  '  That 's  sorry  ' ;  so  Folios  ;  Quartos,  '  That  sorrowes.' 

III.  ii.  7^-77.  Cp.  Clown's  song  in  Twelfth  Night,  V.  vi.  398. 

III.  ii.  95.  *"  /  live  before  his  time';  according  to  the  legend, 
Lear  was  contemporary  with  Joash,  King  of  Judah.  The  whole 
prophecy,  which  does  not  occur  in  the  Quartos,  was  probably  an 
interpolation,  tacked  on  by  the  actor  who  played  the  fool.  The 
passage  is  an  imitation  of  some  lines  formerly  attributed  to  Chau- 
cer, called  '  Chaucer's  Prophecy.' 

III.  iv.  6.  'contentious' ;  so  Folios;  Quarto  i  (some  copies), 
'  tempestious' ;  Quartos  2,  3,  and  Quarto  i  (some  copies),  '  cru- 
lentious.' 

III.  iv.  29.  'storm';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'night.' 

III.  iv.  47.  '  Through  the  sharp  hazvtJiorn  blows  the  cold  wind,' 
probably  the  burden  of  an  old  song. 

III.  iv.  54-55.  'knives  under  his  pillow  and  halters  in  his  pew' 
(to  tempt  him  to  suicide).  Theobald  pointed  out  that  the  allu- 
sion is  to  an  incident  mentioned  in  Harsnet's  Declaration. 

III.  iv.  81.  'thy  word  justly';  Pope's  emendation;  Quartos 
read,  *  thy  words  justly ' ;  Folio  i,  '  thy  7vords  Justice.' 

III.  iv.  102.  '  sessa ' ;  Malone's  emendation  ;  Folio  i,  '  Sesey ' ; 
Quarto  i,  '  caese  ' ;  Quarto  2,  '  cease  ' ;  Capell,  '  sesse  ' ;  etc. 

III.  iv.  141-142.  Cp.  '  The  Romance  of  Sir  Bevis  of  Hamp- 
toun ' : — 

"  Rattes  and  myce  and  suche  small  dere, 
Was  his  meate  that  seuen  yere." 
176 


KING  LEAR  Notes 

III.  iv.  184-186.  '  Child  Rowland  to  the  dark  tozver  came,'  etc. 
Jamieson,  in  his  Illustrations  of  Northern  Antiquities  (1814),  has 
preserved  the  story  as  told  him  by  a  tailor  in  his  youth ;  this 
Scottish  Version  has  since  been  reprinted  and  studied  {Cp.  Childs' 
English  and  Scottish  Ballads,  and  Jacob's  English  Fairy  Tales). 

III.  iv.  185.  'His  zvord  was  still'  refers,  of  course,  to  the  giant, 
and  not  to  Childe  Rowland.  The  same  story  (with  the  refrain 
Fee  fo  fum.  Here  is  the  Englishman)  is  alluded  to  in  Peele's 
Old  Wives  Tale,  and  it  is  just  possible  that  it  may  be  the  ultimate 
original  of  the  plot  of  Milton's  Comus  {v.  Preface,  on  British  for 
English ) . 

III.  vi.  27.  'Come  o'er  the  bourn,  Bessy,  to  me.'  Mr.  Chappell 
(Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time.  p.  305,  note)  says,  "  The  allu- 
sion is  to  an  English  ballad  by  William  Birch,  entitled,  *  A  Songe 
betwene  the  Quene's  Majestic  and  England,'  a  copy  of  which  is 
in  the  library  of  the  Society  of  Antiquaries.  England  commences 
the  dialogue,  inviting  Queen  Elizabeth  in  the  following  words : — 

"  Come  over  the  horn,  Bessy,  come  over  the  horn,  Bessy, 
Swete  Bessy,  come  over  to  me." 

The  date  of  Birch's  song  is  1558,  and  it  is  printed  in  full  in  the 
Harleian  Miscellany,  X.  260. 

III.  vi.  43-46.  Put  into  verse  by  Theobald.  Steevens  quotes  a 
line  from  an  old  song, 

"  Sleepeyst  thou,  wakyst  thou,  Jeffery  Coke," 

found  in  '  The  Interlude  of  the  Four  Elements'  (1519). 

III.  vi.  79.  'Thy  horn  is  dry.'  "A  horn  was  usually  carried 
about  by  every  Tom  of  Bedlam,  to  receive  such  drink  as  the 
charitable  might  afford  him,  with  whatever  scraps  of  food  they 
might  give  him"  (Malone),  etc. 

III.  vi.  97-110.  "Every  editor  from  Theobald  downwards,"  as 
the  Cambridge  editors  observe,  "  except  Hanmer,  has  reprinted 
this  speech  from  the  Quartos.  In  deference  to  this  concensus  of 
authority  we  have  retained  it,  though,  as  it  seems  to  us,  internal 
evidence  is  conclusive  against  the  supposition  that  the  lines  were 
written  by  Shakespeare." 

III.  vii.  58.  'stick,'  the  reading  of  Folios;  Quartos,  'rash.' 

III.  vii.  63.  '  howl'd  that  stern';  Quartos,  'heard  that  dearne'; 
Capell,  '  howl'd  that  dearn  '  ('  dearn  '  =  obscure,  dark,  gloomy). 

177 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

III.  vii.  65.  *  All  cruels  else  subscribed' ;  so  Quartos;  Folios, 
*  suhscrihe.'  The  passage  has  been  variously  interpreted ;  the 
weight  of  authority  favouring  the  Folio  reading.  Schmidt's  ex- 
planation being  perhaps  the  most  plausible : — "  Everything  which 
is  at  other  times  cruel,  shows  feeling  of  regard ;  you  alone  have 
not  done  so."  Furness  makes  the  words  part  of  the  speech  ad- 
dressed to  the  porter,  "  acknowledge  the  claims  of  all  creatures, 
however  cruel  they  may  be  at  other  times  " ;  or  "  give  up  all  cruel 
things  else ;  i.e.  forget  that  they  are  cruel."  This  approximates 
to  the  interpretation  given  by  Mr.  Wright  to  the  reading  in  the 
text,  "  all  their  other  cruelties  being  yielded  or  forgiven." 

IV.  i.  6-0.  '  zvclconie  .  .  .  blasts';  vi.  169-174  {'Plate  .  .  . 
lips')  ;  vii.  61 ;  omitted  in  the  Quartos. 

IV.  i.  12.  'Life  zvoiild  not  yield  to  age,'  i.e.  life  would  not  gladly 
lapse  into  old  age  and  death. 

IV.  i.  38.  '  Kill ' ;  Quarto  i,  '  bitt ' ;  Quartos  2,  3,  '  bit '  (prob- 
ably an  error  for  'hit'). 

IV.  i.  60-65;  ii.  31-50,  53-59,  62-68,  69;  iii.  (the  whole  scene); 
vii.  24-25,  33-36,  79-80,  85-98,  omitted  in^the  Folios. 

IV.  ii.  28.  'My  fool  usurps  my  body';  so  Folios;  Quarto  i,  'A 
foole  usurps  my  bed';  Quarto  2,  'My  foote  usurps  my  head'; 
Malone,  '  My  fool  usurps  my  bed.' 

ly.  ii.  47.  'tame  these  vile  offences';  Schmidt  conj.  'take  the 
vild  offenders' ;  Heath  conj.  'these  vile';  Quarto  i,  'this  vild'; 
Pope,  '  the  vile.' 

IV.  ii.  57.  'thy  state  begins  to  threat';  Jennens  conj.;  Quarto 
I,  '  thy  state  begins  thereat ' ;  Quartos  2,  3,  '  thy  slaier  begins 
threats';  Theobald,  'thy  slayer  begins  his  threats/  etc. 

IV.  ii.  68.  'your  manhood!  mew!';  some  copies  of  Quarto  i 
read  '  manhood  mezv ' ;  others  '  manhood  now ' ;  so  the  later  Quar- 
tos ;  according  to  the  present  reading  *"  mew '  is  evidently  a  cat- 
like interjection  of  contempt. 

IV.  iii.  20.  '  like  a  better  zvay ' ;  so  Quartos ;  the  passage  seems 
to  mean  that  her  smiles  and  tears  resembled  sunshine  and  rain, 
but  in  a  more  beautiful  manner ;  many  emendations  have  been 
proposed — '  like  a  wetter  May  '  (Warburton)  ;  '  like  a  better  May  ' 
(Malone)  ;  'like; — a  belter  way'  (Boaden),  etc. 

IV.  iii.  30.  '  Let  pity  not  be  believed ' ;  Pope,  '  Let  pity  ne'er 
believe  it';  Capell,  'Let  it  not  be  believed'  (but  '  believed'  ^ht- 
lieved  to  exist '). 

IV.   iii.   32.  '  clamour  moisten' d  ' ;    Capell's    reading ;    Quartos, 

178 


KING   LEAR  Notes 

'And   clamour   moistened    her';    Theobald,    'And,   clamour-mo- 
tion'd' ;  Grant  White,  'And,  clamour-moisten' d,'  etc. 
IV.  V.  4.  ''  lord ' ;  so  Folios  ;  Quartos  read,  '  lady' 
IV.  vi.  98-99.  '/  had  white  hairs  in  my  beard  ere  the  black  ones 
were  there ' ;  i.e.  "  I  had  the  wisdom  of  age  before  I  had  attained 
to  that  of  youth"  (Capell). 

IV.  vi.  225.  '  tame  to' ]  so  Folios  ;  Quartos,  ''  lame  by.' 
IV.   vii.   32.  '  opposed    against   the   warring   winds ' ;    Quartos, 
'  Exposd']  Folios,  'jarring.' 

IV.  vii.  2>^.  'Mine  enemy's'',  Folios,  'Mine  Enemies';  Quartos 
I,  2,  '  Mine  iniurious ' ;  Quarto  2,  '  Mine  injurious ' ;  Theobald, 
'  My  very  enemy's,'  etc. 

IV.  vii.  79.  '  kill'd';  so  Folios;  Quartos,  'cured';  Collier  conj. 
'  quell'd.' 

V.  i.  11-13,  18-19,  23-28,  33;  iii.  38-39,  47,  54-59,  102,  109,  204- 
221,  omitted  in  the  Folios. 

V.  i.  46.  '  and  .  .  .  ceases ' ;  iii.  76,  90,  144,  282,  omitted  in 
the  Quartos. 

V.  i.  25-26.  Mason's  conj.  'Not  the  old  king'  for  'not  bolds  the 
king'  is  worthy  of  mention.  Albany's  point  is  that  the  invading 
enemy  is  France  and  not  the  wronged  king,  together  with  others 
whom  heavy  causes  compel  to  fight  against  them ;  otherwise  '  not 
bolds  the  king'  =^'  not  as  it  emboldens  the  king,'  an  awkward 
and  harsh  construction. 

V.  ii.  5.  Mr.  Spedding  (Nezf  Shak.  Soc.  Trans.,  Part  I.)  plausi- 
bly suggested  that  the  Fifth  Act  really  begins  here,  and  that  the 
battle  takes  place  between  Edgar's  exit  and  re-entrance,  the 
imagination  having  leisure  to  fill  with  anxiety  for  the  issue. 

V.  iii.  76.  'the  walls  are  thine';  Theobald  conj.  'they  all  are 
thine  '  (but  perhaps  the  castle-walls  are  referred  to). 

V.  iii.  93.  'prove  it';  so  Quartos;  Folios,  'make  it';  Anon, 
conj.  'mark  it';  Collier  MS.,  'make  good.' 

V.  iii.  96.  'medicine,'  Folios;  Quartos,  ' poyson.' 

V.  iii.  129-130.  *  the  privilege  of  mine  honours' ;  Pope's  reading; 
Quartos  read  'the  priuiledge  of  my  tongue';  Folios.  '  7ny  prim- 
ledge,  The  priuiledge  of  mine  Honours.'  Edgar  refers  to  '  the 
right  of  bringing  the  charge'  as  the  privilege  of  his  profession  as 
knight. 

V.  iii.  146.  Omitted  in  Quarto  2;  Quarto  i  reads  '  Heere  do  I 
tosse  those  treasons  to  thy  head.' 

V.  iii.  156.  'name';  Quartos  read  'thing.' 

V.  iii.  159.  'Most  monstrous!  know'st';  Steevens'  emendation; 

179 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Quarto  i  reads  'Most  monstrous  knowst' ;  Quartos  2,  3,  'Monster, 
knowst';  Folios,  'Most  monstrous!  O  know'st';  Capell,  'most 
monsterous!  knozv'st  ;  Edd.  Globe  Ed.,  'Most  monstrous!  O! 
know'st.' 

V.  iii.  160.  'Ask  me  not  what  I  know';  the  Folios  give  this  line 
to  Edmund ;  the  Quartos  to  Goneril. 

V.  iii.  170-171.  'vices  .  .  .  plague  us';  so  Folios;  Quartos 
Ttad'vertucs  .  .  .  scourge  us' ;  Hanmer,  '  vices  .  .  .  plague 
and  punish  us';  Keightley,  'vices  .  .  .  plague  us  in  their  time' ; 
Anon.  conj.  'vices  .  .  .  scourge  us  and  to  plague  us';  cp. 
'  Wherewith  a  man  sinneth,  by  the  same  also  shall  he  be  pun- 
ished,* Wisdom,  xi.  16. 

V.  iii.  205.  'but  another,'  etc.,  i.e.  ''one  more  such  circumstance 
only,  by  amplifying  what  is  already  too  much,  would  add  to  it, 
and  so  exceed  what  seemed  to  be  the  limit  of  sorrow  "   (Wright). 

V.  iii.  281.  '  One  of  them  zve  behold,'  i.e.  each  beholding  the 
other  sees  one  of  fortune's  two  notable  objects  of  love  and  hate 
(?  for  'we'  read  'ye,'  as  has  been  suggested). 

V.  iii.  310.  'Look  on  her,  look,  her  lips';  Johnson's  emenda- 
tion; Folio  I  reads  '  Looke  her  lips' ;¥o\\os,  'looke  (or  look)  on 
her  lips' 

V.  iii.  323.  This  speech  is  given  in  the  Folios  to  Edgar,  and 
probably  it  was  so  intended  by  the  poet.  It  has  been  suggested 
that  the  first  two  lines  should  be  given  to  Edgar,  the  last  two  to 
Albany. 


180 


KING  LEAR 


Explanatory  Notes. 


The  Explanatory  Notes  in  this  edition  have  been  specially  selected  and 
adapted,  with  emendations  after  the  latest  and  best  authorities,  from  the 
most  eminent  Shakespearian  scholars  and  commentators,  includmg  Johnson, 
Malone,  Steevens,  Singer,  Dyce,  Hudson,  White,  Furness,  Dowden,  and 
others.  This  method,  here  introduced  for  the  first  time,  provides  the  best 
annotation  of  Shakespeare  ever  embraced  in  a  single  edition. 


ACT   FIRST. 
Scene  I. 

I  et  seq.  Johnson  thinks  "  there  is  something  of  obscurity  or 
inaccuracy  "  in  the  opening  of  the  play.  Coleridge  remarks  upon 
it  as  follows :  "  It  was  not  without  forethought,  nor  is  it  without 
its  due  significance,  that  the  division  of  Lear's  kingdom  is  in  the 
first  six  lines  of  the  play  stated  as  a  thing  already  determined 
in  all  its  particulars,  previously  to  the  trial  of  professions,  as  the 
relative  rewards  of  which  the  daughters  were  to  be  made  to  con- 
sider their  several  portions.  The  strange,  yet  by  no  means  un- 
natural, mixture  of  selfishness,  sensibility,  and  habit  of  feeling 
derived  from,  and  fostered  by,  the  particular  rank  and  usages  of 
the  individual ;  the  intense  desire  of  being  intensely  beloved — 
selfish,  and  yet  characteristic  of  the  selfishness  of  a  loving  and 
kindly  nature  alone;  the  self-supportless  leaning  for  all  pleasure 
on  another's  breast ;  the  craving  after  sympathy  with  a  prodigal 
disinterestedness,  frustrated  by  its  own  ostentation,  and  the  mode 
and  nature  of  its  claims;  the  anxiety,  the  distrust,  the  jealousy, 
which  more  or  less  accompany  all  selfish  affections,  and  are 
amongst  the  surest  contradistinctions  of  mere  fondness  from  true 
love,  and  which  originate  Lear's  eager  wish  to  enjoy  his  daugh- 
ters' violent  professions,  whilst  the  inveterate  habits  of  sov- 
ereignty convert  the  wish  into  claim  and  positive  right,  and  an 
incompliance  with  it  into  crime  and  treason ; — these  facts,  these 
passions,  these  moral  verities,   on   which  the  whole  tragedy   is 

i8i 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

founded,  are  all  prepared  for,  and  will  to. the  retrospect  be  found 
implied,  in  these  first  four  or  five  lines  of  the  play.  They  let  us 
know  that  the  trial  is  but  a  trick;  and  that  the  grossness  of  the 
old  king's  rage  is  in  part  the  natural  result  of  a  silly  trick  sud- 
denly and  most  unexpectedly  baffled  and  disappointed." 

yj  et  seq.  "  We  have  already,"  according  to  Johnson,  "  made 
known  in  some  measure  our  desire  of  parting  the  kingdom ;  we 
will  now  discover  what  has  not  been  told  before,  the  reasons  by 
which  we  shall  regulate  the  partition." 

44.  Constant  zvill  means  a  firm,  determined  will;  the  certa 
voluntas  of  Virgil. 

62.  Beyond  all  assignable  quantity.  I  love  you  beyond  limits 
and  cannot  say  it  is  so  much. 

y2)'  That  is,  she  comes  short  of  me  in  this,  that  I  profess,  etc. 

75.  square  of  sense : — Singer  proposed  to  read,  "  most  spacious 
sphere."  Spacious,  without  sphere,  is  a  very  plausible  change,  but 
not  so  necessary  or  so  helpful  to  the  sense  as  to  warrant  its 
adoption.  "  Whatever  meaning  or  no-meaning  we  may  attach  to 
square  of  sense,  it  seems  clear  to  me,"  says  Furness,  "that  Regan 
refers  to  the  joys  which  that  square  professes  to  bestow." 

89.  Nothing,  my  lord: — Coleridge  remarks  upon  Cordelia's 
answer  thus :  "'  There  is  something  of  disgust  at  the  ruthless 
hypocrisy  of  her  sisters,  and  some  little  faulty  admixture  of 
pride  and  sullenness  in  Cordelia's  '  Nothing ' ;  and  her  tone  is 
well  contrived,  indeed,  to  lessen  the  glaring  absurdity  of  Lear's 
conduct,  but  yet  answers  the  yet  more  important  purpose  of 
forcing  away  the  attention  from  the  nursery-tale,  the  moment  it 
has  served  its  end,  that  of  supplying  the  canvas  for  the  picture. 
This  is  also  materially  furthered  by  Kent's  opposition,  which  dis- 
plays Lear's  moral  incapability  of  resigning  the  sovereign  power 
in  the  very  act  of  disposing  of  it." 

153.  The  meaning  of  answer  my  life  my  judgement  is,  let  my 
life  be  answerable  for  my  judgement,  or,  /  will  stake  my  life  on 
my  opinion. 

157-159-  ^^y  lif^>  etc.: — I  never  regarded  my  life  as  my  own, 
but  merely  entrusted  to  me  as  a  pawn  or  pledge,  to  be  employed 
against  your  enemies. 

196.  A  quest  is  a  seeking  or  pursuit:  the  expedition  in  which  a 
knight  was  engaged  is  often  so  named  in  The  Faerie  Queene. 

275.  We  have  here  professed  for  professing.  Shakespeare 
often  uses  one  participle  for  another. 

182 


KING  LEAR  Notes 

Scene  II. 

I,  2.  "  In  this  speech  of  Edmund,"  declares  Coleridge,  "  you 
see,  as  soon  as  a  man  cannot  reconcile  himself  to  reason,  how  his 
conscience  flies  off  by  way  of  appeal  to  Nature,  who  is  sure  upon 
such  occasions  never  to  find  fault;  and  also  how  shame  sharpens 
a  predisposition  in  the  heart  to  evil.  ...  In  the  anguish  of 
undeserved  ignominy  the  delusion  secretly  springs  up,  of  getting 
over  the  moral  quality  of  an  action  by  fixing  the  mind  on  the  mere 
physical  act  alone. 

26.  Upon  the  gad  I — In  haste,  equivalent  to  upon  the  spur.  A 
gad  was  a  sharp-pointed  piece  of  steel  used  in  driving  oxen ; 
hence  goaded. 

107.  unstate  myself,  etc. : — I  would  give  up  my  estate,  all  that 
J  am  possessed  of,  to  be  satisfied  of  the  truth.  Shakespeare  fre- 
quently uses  resolved  for  satisfied. 

137-139-  on  admirable  evasion,  etc. : — Warburton  thinks  that  the 
dotages  of  judicial  astrology  were  meant  to  be  satirized  in  this 
speech.  Coleridge  remarks  upon  Edmund's  philosophizing  as  fol- 
lows :  "  Thus  scorn  and  misanthropy  are  often  the  anticipations 
and  mouthpieces  of  wisdom  in  the  detection  of  superstitions. 
Both  individuals  and  nations  may  be  free  from  such  prejudices 
by  being  below  them,  as  well  as  by  rising  above  them." 

145,  146.  And  pat,  etc. : — Perhaps  this  was  intended  to  ridicule 
the  awkward*  conclusions  of  the  old  comedies,  wherein  the  per- 
sons of  the  scene  made  their  entry  inartificially,  and  just  when 
the  poets  want  them  on  the  stage. 

148.  fa,  sol,  la,  mi: — "Shakespeare,"  says  Dr.  Burney,  "shows 
by  the  context  that  he  was  well  acquainted  with  the  property  of 
these  syllables  in  solmization,  which  imply  a  series  of  sounds  so 
unnatural  that  ancient  musicians  prohibited  their  use.  .  .  . 
Edmund,  speaking  of  eclipses  as  portents,  compares  the  disloca- 
tion of  events,  the  times  being  out  of  joint,  to  the  unnatural  and 
offensive  sounds  fa  sol  la  mi."  But  later  authorities  do  not  in- 
variably accept  this  view. 

Scene  III. 

[Enter  .  .  .  steward.]  "The  Steward,"  says  Coleridge, 
"  should  be  placed  in  exact  antithesis  to  Kent,  as  the  only  char- 
acter of  utter  irredeemable  baseness  in  Shakespeare.     Even  in 

183 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

this  the  judgement  and  invention  of  the  Poet  are  very  observable: 
for  what  else  could  the  willing  tool  of  a  Goneril  be?  Not  a  vice 
but  this  of  baseness  was  left  open  to  him." 


Scene  IV. 

I  et  seq.  We  must  suppose  that  Kent  advances  looking  on  his 
disguise.  This  circumstance  very  naturally  leads  to  his  speech, 
which  otherwise  would  have  no  apparent  introduction. 

16,17.  to  converse  .  .  .  little: — His  meaning  is,  that  he 
chooses  for  his  companions  men  who  are  not  tattlers  or  tale- 
bearers. 

18.  It  is  not  clear  how  Kent  means  to  make  the  eating  no  fish 
a  recommendatory  quality,  unless  we  suppose  that  it  arose  from 
the  odium  then  cast  upon  the  papists,  who  were  the  most  strict 
observers  of  periodical  fasts,  which,  though  enjoined  to  the 
people  under  the  government  of  Elizabeth,  were  not  very  strictly 
observed  by  them.  So  in  Marston's  Dutch  Courtesan :  "  I  trust 
I  am  none  of  the  wicked  that  eat  Ush  a  Fridays." 

70.  By  jealous  curiosity  Lear  appears  to  mean  a  punctilious 
jealousy  resulting  from  a  scrupulous  watchfulness  of  his  own 
dignity. 

75.  the  fool  hath  much  pined  away : — "  The  Fool,"  as  Cole- 
ridge observes,  "  is  no  comic  buffoon  to  make  the  groundlings 
laugh ;  no  forced  condescension  of  Shakespeare's  genius  to  the 
taste  of  his  audience.  Accordingly  the  Poet  prepares  for  his 
introduction,  which  he  never  does  with  any  of  his  common  clowns 
and  fools,  by  bringing  him  into  living  connection  with  the  pathos 
of  the  play.  He  is  as  wonderful  a  creation  as  Caliban :  his  wild 
babblings  and  inspired  idiocy  articulate  and  gauge  the  horrors  of 
the  scene." 

108.  nuncle! — A  familiar  contraction  of  mine  uncle.  It  seems 
that  the  common  appellation  of  the  old  licensed  fool  to  his 
superiors  was  uncle.  In  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Pilgrim,  when 
Alinda  assumes  the  character  of  a  fool,  she  uses  the  same  lan- 
guage. She  meets  Alfonso,  and  calls  him  nuncle;  to  which  he 
replies  by  calling  her  naunt. 

124.  Lend  less,  etc. : — That  is,  do  not  lend  all  that  thou  hast : 
owe  for  own. 

194.  frontlet: — This  word  is  here  used  for  frown.  A  frontlet 
was  a  forehead  cloth  worn  by  ladies  to  prevent  wrinkles.     So  in 

184 


KING  LEAR  Notes 

Zepheria,  1594:  "And  vayle  thy  face  with  frozvnes  as  with  a 
frontlet." 

242.  It  must  be  understood,  that  in  the  speech  beginning  "  I 
would  learn  that,"  Lear  is  continuing  his  former  speech,  and  an- 
swering his  own  question,  without  heeding  the  Fool's  interrup- 
tion. So,  again,  in  this  speech  the  Fool  continues  his  former 
one,  which  referring  to  shadow. 

337'  you  may  fear  too  far: — "The  monster  Goneril,"  remarks 
Coleridge,  "  prepares  what  is  necessary,  while  the  character  of 
Albany  renders  a  still  more  maddening  grievance  possible,  namely, 
Regan  and  Cornwall  in  perfect  sympathy  of  monstrosity.  Not  a 
sentiment,  not  an  image  which  can  give  pleasure  on  its  own 
account,  is  admitted:  whenever  these  creatures  are  introduced, 
and  they  are  brought  forward  as  little  as  possible,  pure  horror 
reigns  throughout.  In  this  scene  and  in  all  the  early  speeches 
of  Lear,  the  one  general  sentiment  of  filial  ingratitude  prevails 
as  the  mainspring  of  the  feelings ;  in  this  early  stage  the  out- 
ward object  causing  the  pressure  on  the  mind,  which  is  not  yet 
sufficientl}'-  familiarized  with  the  anguish  for  the  imagination  to 
work  upon  it." 

Scene  V. 

5.  The  word  tJiere  in  this  speech  shows  that  when  the  King 
says,  "  Go  you  before  to  Gloucester/'  he  means  the  town  of 
Gloucester,  which  Shakespeare  chose  to  make  the  residence  of 
the  Duke  of  Cornwall,  to  increase  the  probability  of  their  setting 
out  late  from  thence  on  a  visit  to  the  Earl  of  Gloucester.  The 
old  English  earls  usually  resided  in  the  counties  from  whence 
they  took  their  titles.  Lear,  not  finding  his  son-in-law  and  his 
wife  at  home,  follows  them  to  the  Earl  of  Gloucester's  castle. 

15.  kindly: — The  Fool  quibbles,  using  kindly  in  two  senses;  as 
it  means  affectionately,  and  like  the  rest  of  her  kind. 

24.  /  did  her  wrong : — Lear  has  Cordelia  in  mind  now. 

35.  seven  stars: — Furness  asks  if  the  Fool  may  not  refer  to 
the  Great  Bear's  seven  stars. 

39.  Lear  is  meditating  on  what  he  has  before  threatened, 
namely,  to  "  resume  the  shape  which  he  has  cast  off." 

45.  O,  let  me  not  be  mad: — "The  mind's  own  anticipation  of 
madness  !  "  exclaims  Coleridge.  "  The  deepest  tragic  notes  are 
often  struck  by  a  half-sense  of  an  impending  blow.  The  Fool's 
conclusion  of  this  Act  by  a  grotesque  prattling  seems  to  indicate 
the  dislocation  of  feeling  that  has  begun  and  is  to  be  continued." 

185 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

ACT  SECOND. 

Scene  I. 

25-28.  "  In  order  to  confuse  his  brother  and  urge  him  to  flight," 
says  DeHus,  "  Edmund  asks  him  first  whether  he  has  not  spoken 
against  Cornwall,  and  then,  reversing  the  question,  whether  he 
has  not  said  something  on  the  side  of  Cornwall  against  Albany." 

Z^-37'  i  /JCf^'^  seen  drunkards,  etc: — These  drunken  feats  are 
mentioned  in  Marston's  Dutch  Courtezan :  "  Have  I  not  been 
drunk  for  your  health,  eat  glasses,  drunk  wine,  stabbed  arms,  and 
done  all  offices  of  protested  gallantry  for  your  sake?  " 

42.  Gloucester  has  already  shown  himself  a  believer  in  such 
astrological  superstitions;  so  that  Edmund  here  takes  hold  of 
him  by  just  the  right  handle. 

86.  natural: — The  word  natural  is  here  used  with  much  art  in 
the  double  sense  of  illegitimate  and  as  opposed  to  unnatural, 
which  latter  epithet  is  implied  upon  Edgar. 

90.  There  is  a  peculiar  subtlety  and  intensity  of  virulent  malice 
in  these  speeches  of  Regan.  Coleridge  justly  observes  that  she 
makes  "  no  reference  to  the  guilt,  but  only  to  the  accident,  which 
she  uses  as  an  occasion  for  sneering  at  her  father."  And  he  adds, 
"  Regan  is  not,  in  fact,  a  greater  monster  than  Goneril,  but  she 
has  the  power  of  casting  more  venom." 

Scene  II. 

63.  Zed  is  here  used  as  a  term  of  contempt,  because  Z  is  the 
last  letter  in  the  English  alphabet :  it  is  said  to  be  an  unnecessary 
letter  because  its  place  may  be  supplied  by  S. 

95-104.  This  is  some  fellozv,  etc.: — Coleridge  has  a  just  remark 
upon  this  speech :  "  In  thus  placing  these  profound  general  truths 
in  the  mouths  of  such  men  as  Cornwall,  Edmund,  lago,  etc., 
Shakespeare  at  once  gives  them  utterance,  and  yet  shows  how 
indefinite  their  application  is."  It  may  be  added,  that  an  inferior 
dramatist,  instead  of  making  his  villains  use  any  such  vein  of 
original  and  profound  remark,  would  probably  fill  their  mouths 
with  something  either  shocking  or  absurd;  which  is  just  what 
real  villains,  if  they  have  any  wit,  never  do. 

97,  98.  and  constrains,  etc.: — Forces  his  outside,  or  his  appear- 
ance, to  something  totally  different  from  his  natural  disposition. 

186 


KING  LEAR  Notes 

126.  Ajax  is  a  fool  to  them.  "These  rogues  and  cowards  talk 
in  such  a  boasting  strain  that,  if  we  were  to  credit  their  account 
of  themselves,  Ajax  would  appear  a  person  of  no  prowess  when 
compared  to  them." 

136.  "Ver}'-  artfully,"  says  Clarke,  "is  this  speech  thrown  in. 
Not  only  does  it  serve  to  paint  the  vindictive  disposition  of  Regan, 
it  also  serves  to  regulate  dramatic  time  by  making  the  sub- 
sequent scene  where  Lear  arrives  before  Gloucester's  castle  and 
finds  his  faithful  messenger  in  the  stocks  appear  sufficiently  ad- 
vanced in  the  morning  to  allow  of  that  same  scene  closing  with 
the  actual  approach  of  '  night,'  without  disturbing  the  sense  of 
probability.  Shakespeare  makes  a  whole  day  pass  before  our 
eyes  during  a  single  scene  and  dialogue,  yet  all  seems  consistent 
and  natural  in  the  course  of  progression." 

166.  "  That  Cordelia  should  have  thought  of  him,  or  that  her 
letter  should  have  reached  him,  seems  to  him  such  a  miracle," 
says  Delius,  "  as  only  those  in  misery  experience." 

171.  Kent,  according  to  Hudson's  original  view,  addresses  the 
sun,  for  whose  rising  he  is  impatient,  that  he  may  read  Cordelia's 
letter.  "  I  know,"  says  he,  "  this  letter  which  I  hold  in  my  hand 
is  from  Cordelia;  who  hath  most  fortunately  been  informed  of 
my  disgrace  and  wandering  in  disguise;  and  zvho,  seeking  it,  shall 
find  time  out  of  this  disordered,  unnatural  state  of  things,  to  give 
losses  their  remedies ;  to  restore  her  father  to  his  kingdom,  her- 
self to  his  love,  and  me  to  his  favour."  Hudson,  however,  sub- 
sequently adopted  Mr.  J.  Crosby's  paraphrase  of  lines  169-171,  as 
follows :  "  From  this  anomalous  state  of  mine,  I  shall  gain  time 
to  communicate  and  co-operate  with  Cordelia  in  her  endeavour 
to  restore  the  kingdom  to  its  former  condition ;  to  give  losses  their 
remedies,  that  is,  to  reinstate  Lear  on  the  throne,  Cordelia  in  his 
favour,  and  myself  in  his  confidence,  and  in  my  own  rights  and 
titles." 

Scene  III. 

10.  Hair  thus  knotted  was  supposed  to  be  the  work  of  elves  and 
fairies  in  the  night. 

14.  Bedlam  beggars: — In  The  Bell-Man  of  London,  by  Dekker, 
1640,  is  an  account  of  one  of  these  characters,  under  the  title  of 
Abraham  Man  :  "  He  sweares  he  hath  been  in  Bedlam,  and  will 
talke  frantickely  of  purpose :  you  see  pinnes  stuck  in  sundry 
places  of  his  naked  flesh,  especially  in  his  armes,  which  paine  he 

187 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

gladly  puts  himselfe  to,  only  to  make  you  believe  he  is  out  of  his 
wits.  He  calls  himselfe  by  the  name  of  Poore  Tom,  and,  coming 
near  any  body,  cries  out.  Poor  Tom  is  a-cold.  Of  these  Abraham- 
men  some  be  exceeding  merry,  and  doe  nothing  but  sing  songs 
fashioned  out  of  their  own  braines ;  some  will  dance,  others  will 
doe  nothing  but  either  laugh  or  weepe ;  others  are  dogged,  and 
so  sullen  both  in  looke  and  speech,  that  spying  but  a  small  com- 
pany in  a  house  they  boldly  and  bluntly  enter,  compelling  the 
servants  through  feare  to  give  them  what  they  demand." 


Scene  IV. 

42.  The  /  which  is  found  in  line  39,  is  understood  before  the 
vt^ord  having,  or  before  drew.  The  same  license  is  taken  by 
Shakespeare  in  other  places. 

46.  If  this  be  their  behaviour,  the  King's  troubles  are  not  yet 
at  an  end. 

56.  Lear  affects  to  pass  off  the  swelling  of  his  heart,  ready  to 
burst  with  grief  and  indignation,  for  the  disease  called  the  mother, 
or  hysterica  passio,  which,  in  the  Poet's  time,  was  not  thought 
peculiar  to  women.  It  is  probable  that  Shakespeare  had  this  sug- 
gested to  him  by  a  passage  in  Harsnet's  Declaration  of  Popish 
Impostures,  which  he  may  have  consulted  in  order  to  furnish  out 
his  character  of  Tom  of  Bedlam  with  demoniacal  gibberish. 
"  Ma.  Maynie  had  a  spice  of  the  hysterica  passio,  as  seems,  from 
his  youth ;  he  himself  termes  it  the  moother."  It  seems  the 
priests  persuaded  him  it  was  from  the  possession  of  the  devil. 
"The  disease  I  spake  of  was  a  spice  of  the  mother,  wherewith  I 
had  been  troubled  before  my  going  into  Fraunce :  whether  I  doe 
rightly  term  it  the  mother  or  no,  I  knowe  not." 

6y.  "Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,"  says  Solomon  (Proverbs 
vi.  6-8),  "  consider  her  ways,  and  be  wise;  which  having  no  guide, 
overseer,  or  ruler,  provideth  her  meat  in  the  summer,  and  gather- 
eth  her  food  in  harvest."  If,  says  the  Fool  (according  to  Ma- 
lone),  you  had  been  schooled  by  the  ant,  you  would  have  known 
that  the  King's  train,  like  that  sagacious  insect,  prefer  the  sum- 
mer of  prosperity  to  the  colder  season  of  adversity,  from  which 
no  profit  can  be  derived. 

68-70.  All  men  but  blind  men,  though  they  follow  their  noses, 
are  led  by  their  eyes ;  and  this  class,  seeing  the  King  ruined,  have 
all  deserted  him :    with  respect  to  the  blind,  who  have  nothing  but 

188 


KING  LEAR  Notes 

their  noses  to  guide  them,  they  also  fly  equally  from  a  king  whose 
fortunes  are  declining;  for  of  the  noses  of  blind  men  there  is  not 
one  in  twenty  but  can  smell  him  who,  being  "  muddy  in  Fortune's 
mood,  smells  somewhat  strong  of  her  displeasure." 

85,  86.  It  is  not  easy  to  make  any  sense  out  of  these  two  lines, 
and  perhaps  it  was  not  intended  that  any  should  be  made  out  of 
them.  Hudson  suggests  (Harvard  ed.)  that  "the  Fool  may  be 
using  the  trick  of  suggesting  a  thing  by  saying  its  opposite." 

123.  cockney: — Of  this  word,  says  Nares,  the  etymology  seems 
most  probable  which  derives  it  from  cookery.  Le  pays  de  cocagne, 
or  coquaine,  in  old  French,  means  a  country  of  good  cheer.  This 
famous  country,  if  it  could  be  found,  is  described  as  a  region 
"  where  the  hills  were  made  of  sugar-candy,  and  the  loaves  ran 
down  the  hills,  crying,  Come  eat  me."  This  Lubberland,  as  Florio 
calls  it,  seems  to  have  been  proverbial  for  the  simplicity  or  gul- 
libility of  its  inhabitants.  Dekker,  in  his  Newes  from  Hell,  says, 
"  'Tis  not  our  fault ;  but  our  mothers',  our  cockering  mothers,  who 
for  their  labour  made  us  to  be  called  cockneys." 

140-142.  This  innocent  passage  has  been  tortured  with  a  great 
deal  of  comment.  The  meaning  of  it  seems  to  be,  "  You  less 
know  how  to  value  Goneril's  merit,  than  she  knows  how  to  do 
her  duty."  Hudson  (Harvard  ed.)  observes:  "The  difficulty 
grows  from  putting  a  positive  and  a  negative  clause  together  in 
a  comparison."  And  Furness  inquires:  "Is  the  levity  ill-timed 
that  suggests  that  perhaps  Regan's  speech  puzzles  poor  old  Lear 
himself  quite  as  much  as  his  commentators,  and  he  has  to  ask 
her  to  explain :  '  Say,  how  is  that?  '  " 

155.  tlie  house: — That  is,  according  to  Warburton,  the  order  of 
families,  duties  of  relation. 

157.  Age  is  unnecessary : — Johnson's  explanation  is,  "  Old  age 
has  few  wants,"  but,  according  to  Wright,  the  words  convey 
Lear's  "  ironical  apology  for  his  useless  existence." 

204.  being  weak,  seem  so  : — Since  you  are  weak,  be  content  to 
think  yourself  so. 

253.  And  in  good  time  you  gave  it: — Observe  what  a  compact 
wolfishness  of  heart  is  expressed  in  these  few  cold  and  steady 
words.  It  is  chiefly  in  this  readiness  of  envenomed  sarcasm  that 
Regan  is  discriminated  from  Goneril :  otherwise  they  seem  almost 
too  much  like  mere  repetitions  of  each  other  to  come  fairly  within 
the  circle  of  nature,  who  never  repeats  herself.  Yet  their  very 
agreement  in  temper  and  spirit  only  makes  them  the  fitter  for  the 
work  they  do.     On  the  whole,   it  is  not  easy  to  imagine  how 

189 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

creatures  could  be  framed  more  apt  to  drive  mad  any  one  who 
had  set  his  heart  on  receiving  any  comfort  or  kindness  from  them. 
To  quote  Dowden :  "  The  two  terrible  creatures  are,  however, 
distinguishable.  Goneril  is  the  calm  wielder  of  a  pitiless  force, 
the  resolute  initiator  of  cruelty.  Regan  is  a  smaller,  shriller, 
fiercer,  more  eager  piece  of  malice.  The  tyranny  of  the  elder 
sister  is  a  cold,  persistent  pressure,  as  little  affected  by  tenderness 
or  scruple  as  the  action  of  some  crushing  hammer;  Regan's 
ferocity  is  more  unmeasured,  and  less  abnormal  or  monstrous." 


ACT  THIRD. 
Scene  I. 

6.  Lear  wishes  for  the  destruction  of  the  world,  either  by  the 
winds  blowing  the  land  into  the  water,  or  raising  the  waters  so 
as  to  overwhelm  the  land. 

23.  whu  seem  no  less: — That  is,  who  seem  the  servants  of 
Albany  and  Cornwall,  but  are  really  engaged  in  the  service  of 
France  as  spies,  having  knowledge  of  our  state ;  of  what  hath  been 
seen  here. 

29.  Whereof  these  things  are  but  the  trimmings  or  appendages ; 
not  the  thing  itself,  but  only  the  circumstances,  outward  shows,  or 
furniture  of  the  thing. 

22.  feet: — Footing.     The  meaning  is,  they  have  secretly  landed. 

Scene  II. 

[Lear.]  These  speeches  of  Lear  amid  the  tempest  contain 
the  grandest  exhibition  of  creative  power  to  be  met  with.  They 
seem  spun  out  of  the  very  nerves  and  sinews  of  the  storm.  It  is 
the  instinct  of  strong  passion  to  lay  hold  of  whatever  objects  and 
occurrences  lie  nearest  at  hand,  and  twist  itself  a  language  out  of 
them,  incorporating  itself  with  their  substance,  and  reproducing 
them  charged  with  its  own  life.  To  Lear,  accordingly,  and  to  us 
in  his  presence,  the  storm  becomes  all  expressive  of  filial  ingrati- 
tude; seems  spitting  its  fire,  and  spouting  its  water,  and  hurl- 
ing its  blasts  against  him.  Thus  the  terrific  energies  and  hostil- 
ities of  external  nature  take  all  their  meaning  from  his  mind; 
and  we  think  of  them  only  as  the  willing  agents  or  instruments 

190 


KING   LEAR  Notes 

of  his  daughters'  malice,  leagued  in  sympathy  with  them,  and  so 
taking  their  part  in  the  controversy.  In  this  power  of  imagina- 
tion, thus  seizing  and  crushing  the  embattled  elements  into  its 
service,  there  is  a  sublimity  almost  too  vast  for  the  thoughts. 

31-34.  The  man  that  makes  his  toe,  etc. : — "  Unless,''  says 
White,  "  the  Fool  means  that  the  man  who  keeps  his  toe  as  close 
as  he  should  keep  his  counsel  or  the  thoughts  of  his  heart,  I  do 
not  know  what  he  means.  No  explanation  hitherto  given  of  the 
last  quatrain  of  this  proverbial  jingle  seems  worthy  of  mention. 
The  first  refers,  as  Johnson  remarked,  to  a  coarse  old  saying,  '  a 
beggar  marries  a  wife  and  lice.' "  Hudson  sees  in  line  ^2)  "  a- 
covert  allusion  to  the  King."  Furness  says  lines  31-34  mean :  "A 
man  who  prefers  or  cherishes  a  mean  member  in  place  of  a  vital 
one  shall  suffer  enduring  pain  where  others  would  suffer  merely 
a  twinge.     Lear  had  preferred  Regan  and  Goneril  to  Cordelia." 

35,  36.  For  there  ivas  never  yet,  etc. : — "  This,"  says  Furness,  "  is 
the  Fool's  way  of  diverting  attention  after  he  has  said  something 
a  little  too  pointed;  the  idea  of  a  very  pretty  woman  making  faces 
in  a  looking-glass  raises  a  smile." 

40.  Meaning  the  King  and  himself.  Grace  was  a  title  of  royalty. 
Cod-piece  as  a  name  for  the  Fool  contains  whimsical  allusion  to 
his  wearing  this  article  of  dress. 

59.  Summoners  are  officers  that  summon  offenders  before  a 
proper  tribunal. 

6y-72,'  My  wits,  etc : — "  The  import  of  this,"  says  Bucknill, 
"must  be  weighed  with  IV.  vi.  101-107,  when  Lear  is  incoherent 
and  full  of  delusion.  Insanity  arising  from  mental  and  moral 
causes  often  continues  in  a  certain  state  of  imperfect  develop- 
ment ;  .  .  .  a  state  of  exaggerated  and  perverted  emotion, 
accompanied  by  violent  and  irregular  conduct,  but  unconnected 
with  intellectual  aberration.  .  .  ,  Shakespeare  contemplated 
this  exposure*and  physical  suffering  as  the  cause  of  the  first  crisis 
in  the  malady.  Our  wonder  at  his  profound  knowledge  of  mental 
disease  increases,  the  more  carefully  we  study  his  works ;  here 
and  elsewhere  he  displays  with  prolific  carelessness  a  knowledge 
of  principles,  half  of  which  would  make  the  reputation  of  a 
modern  ps3^chologist." 

79  et  scq.  This  is  a  brave  night,  etc.: — Most  of  the  recent  ed- 
itors regard  this  whole  speech  as  an  interpolation.  White  and 
Clarke  are  followed  in  this  belief  by  Hudson,  who  (Harvard  ed.) 
quotes  approvingly  White's  comment :  "  This  loving,  faithful 
creature  v/ould  not  let  his  old  master  go  off  half-crazed  in  that 

191 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

storm  that  he  might  stop  and  utter  such  pointless  and  uncalled- 
for  imitation  of  Chaucer." 

Scene  IV, 

[Enter  Lear,  etc.]  On  this  scene  Coleridge  remarks:  "  O, 
what  a  world's  convention  of  agonies  is  here !  All  external  na- 
ture in  a  storm,  all  moral  nature  convulsed — the  real  madness  of 
Lear,  the  feigned  madness  of  Edgar,  the  babbling  of  the  Fool, 
the  desperate  fidelity  of  Kent — surely  such  a  scene  was  never 
conceived  before  or  since !  Take  it  but  as  a  picture  for  the  eye 
only,  it  is  more  terrific  than  any  which  a  Michael  Angelo,  inspired 
by  a  Dante,  could  have  conceived,  and  which  none  but  a  Michael 
Angelo  could  have  executed.  Or  let  it  have  been  uttered  to  the 
blind,  the  bowlings  of  nature  would  seem  converted  into  the  voice 
of  conscious  humanity." 

31.  The  allusion  here  is  to  loopholes,  such  as  are  found  in 
ancient  castles,  and  designed  for  the  admission  of  light. 

45.  Away!  the  foul  iiend,  etc.: — "Edgar's  assumed  madness," 
says  Coleridge,  "  serves  the  great  purpose  of  taking  off  part  of 
the  shock  which  would  otherwise  be  caused  by  the  true  madness 
of  Lear,  and  further  displays  the  profound  difference  between  the 
two.  In  every  attempt  at  representing  madness  throughout  the 
whole  range  of  dramatic  literature,  with  the  single  exception  of 
Lear,  it  is  mere  light-headedness,  especially  in  Otway.  In  Edgar's 
ravings  Shakespeare  all  the  while  lets  you  see  a  fixed  purpose,  a 
practical  end  in  view ; — in  Lear's,  there  is  only  the  brooding  of 
the  one  anguish,  an  eddy  without  progression." 

51-53.  Alluding  to  the  ignis  fatims,  supposed  to  be  lights  kin- 
dled by  mischievous  beings  to  lead  travellers  into  destruction. 

53  et  seq.  knives  under  his  pillow,  etc.: — So  in  Harsnet :  "This 
examinant  further  saith,  that  one  Alexander,  an  apothecary, 
having  brought  with  him  from  London  to  Denham  on  a  time  a 
new  halter,  and  two  blades  of  knives,  did  leave  the  same  upon 
the  gallery  floor  in  her  master's  house."  Fiends  were  commonly 
represented  as  thus  tempting  the  wretched  to  suicide.  So  in  Dr. 
Faustus,  1604: — 

"  Swords,  poisons,  halters,  and  envenom'd  steel 
Are  laid  before  me,  to  dispatch  myself." 

58.  The  five  senses  were  sometimes  called  the  five  wits. 

192 


KING  LEAR  Notes 

58,  59.  0,  do  de,  etc. : — These  syllables  are  probably  meant  to 
represent  the  chattering  of  one  who  shivers  with  cold. 

76.  77.  PilUcock  sat,  etc.: — In  illustration  of  this,  Halliwell  has 
pointed  out  the  following  couplet  in  Ritson's  Gammer  Gurton's 
Garland : — 

"  Pillycock,  Pillycock  sat  on  a  hill ; 
If  he  's  not  gone,  he  sits  there  still." 

86.  gloves  in  my  cap : — Gloves  were  anciently  worn  in  the  cap, 
either  as  the  favour  of  a  mistress,  or  as  the  memorial  of  a  friend, 
or  as  a  badge  to  be  challenged. 

118.  Flibbertigibbet: — The  names  of  this  fiend  and  most  of  the 
fiends  mentioned  by  Edgar  were  found  in  Harsnet,  who  says : 
"  Frateretto,  Fliberdigibet,  Hoberdidance,  Tocobatto,  were  four 
devils  of  the  round  or  morrice."  It  was  an  old  tradition  that 
spirits  were  relieved  from  confinement  at  the  time  of  curfew, 
that  is,  at  the  close  of  the  day,  and  were  permitted  to  wander  at 
large  cill  the  first  cock-crowing.  Hence,  in  The  Tempest,  they 
are  said  to  "  rejoice  to  hear  the  solemn  curfew." 

123.  'old  (for  wold)  : — Wold  is  a  plain  open  country,  whether 
hilly  or  not;  formerly  spelt  old,  ould,  and  wold,  indifferently. 

'^Z7y  138.  from  tithing  to  tithing: — That  is,  from  parish  to 
parish.  The  severities  inflicted  on  the  wretched  beings,  one  of 
whom  Edgar  is  here  personating,  are  set  forth  in  Harrison's  De- 
scription of  England:  "  The  rogue  being  apprehended,  committed 
to  prison,  and  tried  at  the  next  assizes,  if  he  be  convicted  for  a 
vagabond,  he  is  then  adjudged  to  be  grievously  whipped,  and 
burned  through  the  gristle  of  the  right  ear  with  a  hot  iron,  as  a 
manifestation  of  his  wicked  life,  and  due  punishment  received  for 
the  same.  If  he  be  taken  the  second  time,  he  shall  then  be 
whipped  again,"  etc. 

146,  147.  The  prince  of  darkness,  etc.: — So  in  Harsnet's  Dec- 
laration: "  Maho  was  the  chief  devil  that  had  possession  of 
Sarah  Williams ;  but  another  of  the  possessed,  named  Richard 
Mainy,  was  molested  by  a  still  more  considerable  fiend,  called 
Modu."  Again  the  said  Richard  Mainy  deposes :  "  Furthermore 
it  is  pretended,  that  there  remaineth  still  in  mee  the  prince  of 
devils,  whose  name  should  be  Modu." 

147  et  seq.  Our  iiesh  and  blood,  etc. : — "  One  of  Shakespeare's 
subtle  touches,"  observes  Clarke.  "  Some  tone  or  inflection  in 
Edgar's  voice  has  reached  the  father's  heart,  and  bitterly  recalls 
the  supposed  unfilial  conduct  of  his  elder  son,  and  he  links  it  with 

193 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

that  of  Lear's  daughters.  Edgar,  instinctively  feeling  this,  perse- 
veres with  his  Bedlam  cry,  to  drown  the  betrayed  sound  of  his 
own  voice,  and  maintain  the  impression  of  his  assumed  char- 
acter." 

164.  His  zi'its  begin  to  unsettle : — "  When  Belvidera,"  says  Hor- 
ace Walpole,  in  the  postscript  to  his  Mysterious  Mother,  "  talks 
of  '  Lutes,  laurels,  seas  of  milk,  and  ships  of  amber,'  she  is  not 
mad,  but  light-headed.  When  madness  has  taken  possession  of 
a  person,  such  character  ceases  to  be  fit  for  the  stage,  or,  at  least, 
should  appear  there  but  for  a  short  time;  it  being  the  business 
of  the  theatre  to  exhibit  passions,  not  distempers.  The  finest 
picture  ever  drawn  of  a  head  discomposed  by  misfortune  is  that 
of  King  Lear.  His  thoughts  dwell  on  the  ingratitude  of  his 
daughters,  and  every  sentence  that  falls  from  his  wildness  excites 
reflection  and  pity.  Had  frenzy  entirely  seized  him,  our  com- 
passion would  abate ;  we  should  conclude  that  he  no  longer  felt 
unhappiness.  Shakespeare  wrote  as  a  philosopher,  Otway  as  a 
poet." 

173.  /  do  beseech  your  grace: — "Here,"  says  Clarke,  "Glouces- 
ter attempts  to  lead  Lear  towards  the  shelter  he  has  provided  in 
the  farm-house  adjoining  the  castle;  but  the  king  will  not  hear 
of  quitting  his  '  philosopher.'  Gloucester  then  induces  the  Bed- 
lam-fellow to  go  into  the  hovel,  that  he  may  be  out  of  Lear'ss 
sight ;  but  Lear  proposes  to  follow  him  thither,  saying,  '  Let 's 
in  all.'  Kent  endeavours  to  draw  Lear  away,  but,  finding  him 
resolved  to  '  keep  still  with '  his  *  philosopher,'  begs  Gloucester 
to  humour  the  King,  and  '  let  him  take  the  fellow '  with  him. 
Gloucester  accedes,  and  bids  Kent  himself  take  the  fellow  with 
them  in  the  direction  they  desire  to  go;  and  this  is  done.  We 
point  out  these  details,  because,  if  it  be  not  specially  observed, 
the  distinction  between  the  '  hovel '  and  the  '  farm-house '  would 
hardly  be  understood." 

184-186.  Child  Rowland,  Knight  Orlando,  was  reputed  to  be 
King  Arthur's  youngest  son.  In  the  second  part  of  Jack  and  the 
Giants,  which,  if  not  older  than  the  play,  may  have  been  com- 
piled from  something  that  was  so,  are  the  following  lines,  spoken 
by  a  giant : — 

"  Fee,  faw,  f um, 
I  smell  the  blood  of  an  Englishman : 
Be  he  alive,  or  be  he  dead, 
I  '11  grind  his  bones  to  make  my  bread." 

194 


KING   LEAR  Notes 

Scene  V. 

7.  a  provoking  merit : — "  A  merit  he  felt  in  himself  which  irri- 
tated him  against  a  father  that  had  none,"  according  to  Mason. 
"  A  consciousness  of  his  own  worth  which  urged  him  on,"  says 
Wright.  Hudson  (Harvard  ed.)  cites  Crosby:  "It  was  not  alto- 
gether your  brother  Edgar's  evil  disposition  that  made  him  seek 
his  father's  death :  it  was  the  old  man's  desert  that  provoked  him 
to  it ;  that  is,  the  old  man  deserved  it." 

Scene  VI. 

6,  7.  Frateretto,  etc : — Rabelais  says  that  Nero  was  a  fiddler  in 
hell,  and  Trajan  an  angler.  The  history  of  Garagantua  had  ap- 
peared in  English  before  1575,  being  mentioned  in  Laneham's 
Letter  from  Killingworth,  printed  in  that  year.  Fools  were  an- 
ciently termed  innocents. 

14.  he 's  a  mad  yeoman,  etc. : — "  A  rather  curious  commentary," 
says  Hudson,  "  on  some  of  the  Poet's  own  doings ;  who  obtained 
from  the  Heralds'  College  a  coat-of-arms  in  his  father's  name ; 
thus  getting  his  yeoman  father  dubbed  a  gentleman,  in  order,  no 
doubt,  that  himself  might  inherit  the  rank." 

24,  25.  Wantest  thou  eyes,  etc. : — When  Edgar  says,  "  Look, 
where  he  stands  and  glares  !  "  he  seems  to  be  speaking  in  the 
character  of  a  madman,  who  thinks  he  sees  the  fiend.  "  Wantest 
thou  eyes  at  trial,  madam?"  is  a  question  addressed  to  some 
visionary  person,  and  may  mean,  as  Clarke  says,  "  Do  you  want 
eyes  to  gaze  at  and  admire  you  during  trial,  madam?  The  fiends 
are  there  to  serve  your  purpose." 

87.  so,  so,  so : — "  Lear,"  says  Bucknill,  "  is  comparatively  tran- 
quil in  conduct  and  language  during  the  whole  period  of  Edgar's 
mad  companionship.  It  is  only  after  the  Fool  has  disappeared, 
and  Edgar  has  left  to  be  the  guide  of  his  blind  father,  that  the 
King  becomes  absolutely  wild  and  incoherent.  The  singular  and 
undoubted  fact  is,  that  few  things  tranquillize  the  insane  more 
than  the  companionship  of  the  insane.  It  is  a  fact  not  easily  ex- 
plicable, but  it  is  one  of  which,  either  by  the  intuition  of  genius, 
or  by  the  information  of  experience,  Shakespeare  appears  to  be 
aware.'' 

88.  And  I'll  go  to  bed  at  noon: — These  words,  found  only  in 
the  Folio,  are  the  last  we  have  from  the  Fool.    They  are  probably 

19s 


Notes  THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

meant  as  a  characteristic  notice  that  the  poor  dear  fellow's  heart 
is  breaking.  His  beloved  master's  wits  are  shattered,  so  that  he 
has  no  longer  anything  to  live  for.  White  remarks :  "  About 
the  middle  of  the  play  the  Fool  suddenly  disappears,  making  in 
reply  to  Lear's  remark,  '  We  '11  go  to  supper  in  the  morning,'  the 
fitting  rejoinder,  'And  I  '11  go  to  bed  at  noon.'  Why  does  he  not 
return  ?  Clearly  for  this  reason :  he  remains  with  Lear  during 
his  insanity,  to  answer  in  antiphonic  commentary  the  mad  King's 
lofty  ravings  with  his  simple  wit  and  homespun  wisdom ;  but 
after  thai  time,  when  Lear  sinks  from  frenzy  into  forlorn  imbe- 
cility, the  Fool's  utterances  would  have  jarred  upon  our  ears. 
The  situation  becomes  too  grandly  pathetic  to  admit  the  presence 
of  a  jester,  who,  unless  he  is  professional,  is  nothing.  Even 
Shakespeare  could  not  make  sport  with  the  great  primal  ele- 
ments of  woe.  And  so  the  poor  Fool  sought  the  little  corner 
where  he  slept,  turned  his  face  to  t|ie  wall,  and  went  to  bed  in  the 
noon  of  his  life  for  the  last  time — functus  officio." 

114.  Mark  the  high  noises: — The  great  events  that  are  ap- 
proaching. 

Scene  VIL 

13.  my  lord  of  Gloucester: — Meaning  Edmund,  newly  invested 
with  his  father's  titles.  Oswald,  speaking  immediately  after,  men- 
tions the  old  earl  by  the  same  title. 

83,  84.  Out,  vile  jelly!  etc.: — This  horrid  scene  moves  Cole- 
ridge to  say :  "  I  will  not  disguise  my  conviction  that,  in  this  one 
point,  the  tragic  in  this  play  has  been  urged  beyond  the  outermost 
mark  and  ne  plus  ultra  of  the  dramatic."  And  again :  "  What 
shall  I  say  of  this  scene?  There  is  my  reluctance  to  think  Shake- 
speare wrong,  and  yet — "  Tieck  argues  that  the  tearing  out  of 
Gloucester's  eyes  did  not  take  place  on  the  stage  proper. 


ACT   FOURTH. 
Scene  I. 

64.  who  since  possesses,  etc.: — "If,"  says  Harsnet,  "she  have 
a  little  helpe  of  the  mother,  epilepsie,  or  cramp,  to  teach  her 
roll  her  eyes,  wrie  her  mouth,  gnash  her  teeth,  starte  with  her 
body,  hold  her  armes  and  handes  stiffe,  make  antike  faces,  grinne, 

196 


KING  LEAR  Notes 

Diozv  and  mop  like  an  ape,  then  no  doubt  the  young  girle  is  owlc- 
blasted,  and  possessed." 

Scene  II. 

22.  She  bids  him  decHne  his  head,  that  she  may  give  him  a  kiss 
and  appear  only  to  be  whispering  to  him. 

29.  /  have  been  worth  the  zvhistle: — Alluding  to  the  proverb, 
"  It  is  a  poor  dog  that  is  not  worth  the  whistling" 

S2,  ss.  That  nature,  etc. : — The  meaning,  as  Heath  thinks,  is, 
that  that  nature,  which  has  reached  such  a  pitch  of  unnaturalness 
as  to  contemn  its  origin,  cannot  be  restrained  within  any  certain 
bounds.  Albany's  reasoning  is :  If  she  will  take  her  father's  life, 
whose  life  will  she  spare? 

36.  Alluding  to  the  use  that  witches  and  enchanters  are  said  to 
make  of  withered  branehes  in  their  charms.  A  fine  insinuation  in 
the  speaker,  that  she  was  ready  for  the  most  unnatural  mischief, 
and  a  preparative  of  the  Poet  to  her  plotting  with  Edmund 
against  her  husband's  life. 

83  et  seq.  One  way,  etc. : — Goneril's  plan  was  to  poison  her 
sister,  to  marry  Edmund,  to  murder  Albany,  and  to  get  possession 
of  the  whole  kingdom.  As  the  death  of  Cornwall  facilitated  the 
last  part  of  her  scheme,  she  was  pleased  at  it ;  but  disliked  it,  as 
it  put  it  in  the  power  of  her  sister  to  marry  Edmund. 

Scene  III. 

[Enter  .  .  .  Gentleman.]  The  same  gentleman  whom  he 
sent  in  the  foregoing  Act  with  letters  to  Cordelia  at  Dover. 

25.  no  verbal  question  f — That  is,  discourse,  conversation,  talk. 

32.  That  is,  her  outcries  were  accompanied  or  drenched  with 
tears. 

Scene  IV. 

11-15.  Dr.  Kellogg  says:  "This  reply  is  significant,  and  worthy 
of  careful  attention,  as  embracing  a  brief  summary  of  almost  the 
only  true  principles  recognized  by  modern  science,  and  now  car- 
ried out  by  the  most  eminent  physicians  in  the  treatment  of  the 
insane." 

Scene  V. 

33-  give  him  this : — Perhaps  a  ri)ig,  or  some  token. 

197 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

Scene  VI. 

15.  samphire : — In  Shakespeare's  time  the  cliffs  of  Dover  were 
celebrated  for  the  production  of  this  herb.  It  is  thus  spoken  of 
in  Smith's  History  of  Waterford,  1774:  "Samphire  grows  in 
great  plenty  on  most  of  the  seacliffs  in  this  country.  It  is  terrible 
to  see  how  people  gather  it,  hanging  by  a  rope  several  fathom 
from  the  top  of  the  impending  rocks,  as  it  were  in  the  air."  It 
was  made  into  a  pickle  and  eaten  as  a  relish.  This  use  of  it  is 
mentioned  in  Drayton's  Polyolbion. 

49.  The  substance  called  gossamer  is  formed  of  the  collected 
webs  of  spiders.  Some  think  it  the  down  of  plants ;  others  the 
vapour  arising  from  boggy  or  marshy  ground  in  warm  weather. 
The  etymon  of  this  word,  which  has  puzzled  lexicographers,  is 
said  to  be  summer  goose  or  summer  gauze,  hence  "  gauze  o'  the 
summer." 

74.  men's  impossibilities: — Things  that  seem  to  men  impossible. 
The  incident  of  Gloucester  being  made  to  believe  himself  ascend- 
ing, and  leaping  from,  the  chalky  cliff  appears  to  be  a  very  notable 
case  of  inherent  improbability  overcome  in  effect  by  opulence  of 
description. 

82.  His  master: — His  for  its  here  evidently  refers  to  sense. 
Edgar  is  speaking  of  Lear's  fantastical  dress,  and  judges  from 
this  that  he  is  not  in  his  safer  sense ;  that  is,  in  his  senses. 

122.  That  minces  virtue,  etc. : — Puts  on  an  outward  affected 
seeming  of  virtue.  Cotgrave  explains  mineux-se,  "  Outzvard  seem- 
ing, also  squeamish,  quaint,  coy,  that  minces  it  exceedingly." 

184.  zvaivl  and  cry : — This  may  have  been  taken  from  Pliny,  as 
translated  by  Holland :  "  Man  alone,  poor  wretch,  nature  hath 
laid  all  naked  upon  the  bare  earth,  even  on  his  birthday  to  cry 
and  zvrazvlc  presently  from  the  very  first  houre  that  he  is  borne 
into  this  world." 

188,  189.  to  shoe  .  .  .  felt : — We  learn  from  Lord  Herbert's 
Life  of  King  Henry  VHI.  that  such  a  thing  was  actually  done  at 
the  tournament  held  at  Lisle  in  15 13:  the  horses,  to  prevent  their 
slipping  on  a  black  stone  pavement,  zvere  shod  with  felt  or  Hocks. 
So,  too,  in  Fenton's  Tragical  Discourses,  1567:  "He  attyreth 
himself  for  the  purpose  in  a  nightgowne  girt  to  hym,  with  a 
payre  of  shoes  of  felte,  leaste  the  noyse  of  his  feete  might  discover 
his  golnge."  We  should  understand  that  when  Lear  goes  to 
preaching  he  takes  off  his  hat  and  holds  it  in  his  hand,  as  preach- 
ers were  wont  to  do  in  the  Poet's  time. 

198 


KING  LEAR  Notes 

191.  This  was  the  cry  formerly  in  the  English  army  when  an 
onset  was  made  on  the  enemy. 

206.  there  's  life  in  't : — The  case  is  not  yet  desperate. 

217,  218.  the  main  descry,  etc : — The  main  body  is  expected  to 
be  descried  every  hour. 

Scene  VII. 

25.  Louder  the  music : — Shakespeare  considered  soft  music  as 
favourable  to  sleep.  Lear,  we  may  suppose,  had  been  thus  com- 
posed to  rest ;  and  now  the  Doctor  desires  louder  music  for  the 
purpose  of  waking  him. 

36-38.  Mine  enemy's  dog,  etc : — Verplanck  tells  us  that  Jarvis, 
the  American  painter-artist,  used  often  to  quote  this  passage  as 
accumulating  in  the  shortest  compass  the  greatest  causes  of  dis- 
like, to  be  overcome  by  good-natured  pity.  "  It  is  not  merely  the 
personal  enemy,  for  whom  there  might  be  human  sympathy,  that 
is  admitted  to  the  family  fireside,  but  his  dog,  and  that  a  dog  that 
had  inflicted  his  own  share  of  personal  injury,  and  that,  too,  upon 
a  gentle  being  from  whom  it  was  not  possible  that  he  could  have 
received  any  provocation." 

ACT  FIFTH. 
Scene  I. 

45,46.  Your  business,  etc.: — All  designs  against  your  life  will 
have  an  end. 

Scene  III. 

27.  this  note: — This  is  a  warrant  signed  by  Edmund  and 
Goneril,  for  the  execution  of  Lear  and  Cordelia,  referred  to  later. 

65.  immediacy : — This  apt  and  forcible  word  is  probably  of  the 
Poet's  own  coinage.  Nares  says  that  "  the  word,  so  far  as  is 
known,  is  peculiar  to  this  passage."  Of  course  the  meaning  is, 
that  Edmund  has  his  commission  directly  from  her,  and  not 
through  any  one  else ;  that  is,  he  is  her  lieutenant,  not  Albany's. 
So  in  Hamlet  we  have  "the  most  immediate  to  the  throne." 

72.  look'd  but  asquint : — Alluding  to  the  proverb,  "  Love  being 
jealous  makes  a  good  eye  look  a-squint."  So  in  Milton's  Comus: 
*' And  gladly  banish  squint  suspicion." 

79.  To  obstruct  their  union  lies  not  in  your  power. 

118,  119.  Ask  him,   etc.: — This  is   according  to  the   old   cere- 

199 


Notes  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

monial  of  the  trial  by  combat  in  cases  criminal.  Thus  in  Selden's 
Duello :  "  The  appellant  and  his  procurator  first  come  to  the 
gate.  The  constable  and  marshal  demand  by  voice  of  herald, 
what  he  is,  and  why  he  comes  so  arrayed." 

141.  In  wisdom,  etc. : — Because,  if  his  adversary  were  not  of 
equal  rank,  Edmund  might  decline  the  combat. 

150.  Where  they,  etc. : — To  that  place  where  they  shall  rest  for- 
ever ;  that  is,  in  Edgar's  heart. 

185.  That  we,  etc. : — "  To  die  hourly  the  pains  of  death,"  is  a 
periphrasis  for  to  suffer  hourly  the  pains  of  death. 

264.  Fall  and  cease  : — To  cease  is  to  die.  Albany  is  looking  with 
attention  on  the  pains  employed  by  Lear  to  recover  his  child,  and 
knows  to  what  miseries  he  must  survive,  when  he  finds  them  to 
be  ineffectual.  Having  these  images  present  to  his  eyes  and 
imagination,  he  cries  out,  "  Rather  fall,  and  cease  to  be  at  once, 
than  continue  in  existence  only  to  be  wretched." 

297.  this  great  decay: — That  is  Lear.  Shakespeare  means  the 
same  as  if  he  had  said,  "  this  piece  of  decayed  royalty."  Glouces- 
ter calls  him  in  a  preceding  Scene  "  ruin'd  piece  of  nature." 

305.  my  poor  fool: — This  is  not  a  reference  to  the  Fool,  but  an 
expression  of  tenderness  for  Cordelia,  on  whose  lips  Lear  is  still 
intent,  and  dies  while  he  is  searching  there  for  indications  of  life. 

309.  Pray  you,  undo  this  button : — "  Scarcely,"  says  The  Quar- 
terly Review,  April  1833,  "  have  the  spectators  of  this  anguish 
had  time  to  mark  and  express  to  each  other  their  conviction  of 
the  extinction  of  his  mind,  when  some  physical  alteration,  made 
dreadfully  visible,  urges  Albany  to  cry  out,  '  O,  see,  see !  '  The 
intense  excitement  which  Lear  had  undergone,  and  which  lent 
for  a  time  a  supposititious  life  to  his  enfeebled  frame,  gives  place 
to  the  exhaustion  of  despair.  But  even  here,  where  any  other 
mind  would  have  confined  itself  to  the  single  passion  of  parental 
despair,  Shakespeare  contrives  to  indicate  by  a  gesture  the  very 
train  of  internal  physical  changes  which  are  causing  death.  The 
blood  gathering  about  the  heart  can  no  longer  be  propelled  by 
its  enfeebled  impulse.  Lear,  too  weak  to  relieve  the  impediments 
of  his  dress,  which  he  imagines  cause  the  sense  of  suffocation, 
asks  a  bystander  to  '  undo  this  button.'  " 

322.  My  master,  etc. : — His  beloved  Lear.  "  Kent  is,  perhaps," 
says  Coleridge,  "  the  nearest  to  perfect  goodness  in  all  Shake- 
speare's characters.  .  .  .  His  passionate  affection  for,  and 
fidelity  to,  Lear  act  on  our  feelings  in  Lear's  own  favour :  virtue 
itself  seems  to  be  in  company  with  him." 

200 


KING  LEAR 


Questions  on  King  Lear. 


I.  Give  the  date  of  composition.  Mention  some  of  the  pre- 
Shakespearian  forms  of  the  story  and  show  wherein  they  differ 
from  Shakespeare.  What  is  the  duration  of  the  action  of  the 
play?  Is  the  underplot,  that  concerning  Edgar  and  Gloucester, 
to  be  found  in  the  old  plays  ? 


ACT   FIRST. 

2.  What  two  things  in  the  dialogue  between  Kent  and  Glouces- 
ter (Sc.  i.)  indicate  the  problems  that  the  play  will  work  out? 

3.  In  the  division  of  the  kingdom  was  the  share  of  each  daugh- 
ter to  be  equal?  What  distinction  did  Lear  make,  if  any,  in 
terms  expressive  of  his  personal  regard  for  the  three  sisters? 

4.  How  did  each  sister  answer  him? 

5.  How  do  you  judge  Cordelia's  attitude  towards  her  father? 
What  trait  does  she  share  in  common  with  her  father  that  doubt- 
less accounts  for  her  attitude? 

6.  What  part  in  the  situation  does  Kent  play? 

7.  Do  the  exigencies  of  the  moment  alone  account  for  the  sum- 
mary way  Lear  disposes  of  the  Earl  of  Kent  ? 

8.  What  poetic  justice  do  you  feel  in  Cordelia's  marriage? 

9.  How  early  in  the  play  do  the  consequences  of  Lear's  rash- 
ness begin  to  overtake  him? 

10.  Of  Edmund's  soliloquy  in  Sc.  ii.  Coleridge  says,  "  As  soon 
as  a  man  cannot  reconcile  himself  to  reason,  his  conscience  flies 
off  by  way  of  appeal  to  Nature."  Do  you  adopt  the  adverse  crit- 
icism implied  or  have  you  something  to  say  for  Edmund? 

11.  How  does  the  intrigue  of  Edmund,  which  may  be  said  to 
be  an  underplot,  resemble  the  main  plot?  Where  is  this  intrigue 
summarized  in  a  sentence? 

12.  What  state  of  mind  is  indicated  in  Goneril  by  her  charging 
her  father  (line  4)  with  gross  crime? 

13.  What  indications  do  you  see  in  Sc.  iii.,  aside  from  the  ex- 
pressed apprehension  of  Lear,  of  his  approaching  madness? 

201 


Questions  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

14.  What  dramatic  uses  do  the  sallies  of  the  Fool  serve?  Why, 
do  you  understand,  does  Kent  return  disguised? 

15.  What  impression  do  you  get  of  Albany  in  Sc.  iv.  ?  What  is 
his  attitude  towards  Lear?    Towards  his  wife? 

16.  What  allusion  in  Sc.  v.  does  Lear  make  to  Cordelia? 

17.  Describe  the  underplay  of  Lear's  thought  while  he  banters 
with  the  Fool. 

ACT   SECOND. 

18.  What  complications  of  the  action  are  prophesied  in  the 
dialogue  between  Edmund  and  Curan?  Why  do  Cornwall  and 
Regan  come  to  Gloucester's  castle?  How  does  this  journey  ad- 
vance the  fortunes  of  Edmund? 

19.  Does  it  seem  that  Edgar  plays  too  easily  into  the  hands  of 
Edmund?  How  does  Cornwall  hear  the  strange  news  mentioned 
in  line  89?  How  does  Regan  comment  to  Gloucester  on  Edgar's 
supposed  perfidy? 

20.  Of  what  arrayal  of  opposing  forces  are  we  made  aware, 
by  hints  as  well  as  by  facts  ? 

21.  Indicate  the  ironic  quality  of  Kent's  speech,  line  9,  Sc.  ii. 

22.  Tn  what  character  does  Kent  display  himself  in  the  second 
Scene? 

23.  In  Cornwall's  speech" on  bluntness  (102  et  seq.)  does  Shake- 
speare suit  the  speech  to  the  occasion ;  to  the  speaker ;  or  does 
he  merely  take  occasion  for  the  statement  of  a  general  truth? 

24.  To  what  disaster  does  Kent  come? 

25.  What  does  Edgar  determine  upon  doing,  as  disclosed  in 
the  third  Scene? 

26.  What  account  of  a  preceding  action  do  you  get  from  Kent 
(Sc.  iv.)  that  helps  to  explain  the  animus  of  Kent  in  his  scene 
with  Oswald? 

27.  Explain  the  transitions  of  feeling  in  Lear  in  his  talk  (Sc. 
iv.)  with  Regan.  Where  is  the  climax  of  this  interview?  What 
example  of  supreme  dramatic  intuition  is  here  exhibited? 

28.  In  actual  fact,  is  Regan  any  more  cruel  towards  Lear  than  is 
Goneril?     Which  has  the  greater  power  of  arousing  abhorrence? 

29.  Wherein  resides  the  cruelty  of  the  daughters'  act  in  de- 
priving Lear  of  his  train,  since  the  motives  they  allege  may  be 
said  to  conform  to  reason?  How  does  Lear  suggest  the  answer? 
Would  his  emotional  state  permit  him  to  stop  and  reason  at  this 
point  ? 

.»..  202 


KING  LEAR  Questions 

30.  What  are  the  passions  with  which  his  nature  is  stirred? 

31.  What  preparation  for  the  following  Act  does  this  Scene 
provide  ? 

ACT   THIRD. 

32.  What  emotional  purpose  is  served  in  the  first  Scene?  What 
mechanical  purpose  which  concerns  the  plot? 

SS.  Does  the  madness  of  Lear  reach  its  climax  of  sublimity  in 
the  second  Scene?  Is  the  pitch  so  high  that  the  two  preceding 
Scenes  are  necessary  to  prepare  for  it?  What  proof  have  you 
that  Lear  has  not  yet  wholly  lost  his  reason? 

34.  What  fitness  to  the  time  is  seen  in  the  Fool's  song? 

35.  Why  is  Sc.  iii.  set  in  prose?  Does  this  Scene  mark  the 
climax  of  the  subplot ;  if  so,  where  do  you  find  the  climax  of  the 
main  plot?  What  is  the  most  intimate  connecting  link  between 
the  two  plots  ? 

36.  In  contrasting  the  madness  of  Lear  and  Edgar,  what  evi- 
dences do  you  find  showing  it  to  be  real  in  one  case  and  assumed 
in  the  other?  • 

Sy.  At  what  point  does  Lear's  reason  really  desert  him? 

38.  In  Sc.  v,  what  turn  do  Edmund's  machinations  take?  What 
reward  is  he  promised? 

39.  What  form  does  Lear's  madness  take  in  the  sixth  Scene? 
What  do  Edgar  and  the  Fool  attempt  in  relation  to  it? 

40.  What  is  the  significance  of  the  Fool's  last  words,  / '//  go  to 
bed  at  rwon?     Why  does  he/ disappear  from  the  play  at  this  point? 

.  41.  What  action  does  Gloucester  take  to  circumvent  the  daugh- 
ters in  their  further  purposes  against  Lear? 

42.  How  are  Gloucester's  secret  efforts  in  the  King's  behalf 
discovered? 

43.  Who  suggests  the  punishment  that  is  visited  upon  Glouces- 
ter? 

44.  Aside  from  the  personal  violence  that  is  offered  to  Glouces- 
ter, from  what  spiritual  offense  does  he  try  to  dissuade  his  per- 
secutors? 

45.  Contrast  the  poetry  of  Gloucester's  speech  (vi.  56)  with 
the  speeches  put  into  the  mouths  of  Regan,  Goneril,  and  Corn- 
wall. Why  does  imagery  seem  unfit  to  the  expression  of  their 
thoughts  and  purposes? 

46.  How  does  Gloucester  learn  of  the  treachery  of  Edmund? 

47.  Is  this  Scene  too  brutal  for  representation  on  the  stage? 

203 


Questions  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

What  alleviating  element  turns  the  spectator's  feeling  from  horror 
to  pity? 

ACT   FOURTH. 

48.  What  foreshadowing  of  Edgar's  future  fortune  does  his 
soliloquy,  with  which  the  Act  opens,  contain? 

49.  Describe  the  philosophical  nature  of  Edgar's  reflections  in 
Sc.  i.  How  does  the  sight  of  Gloucester  modify  Edgar's  earlier 
optimism? 

50.  Comment  on  this  example  of  Shakespeare's  use  of  contrast 
as  an  effective  dramatic  element. 

51.  Comment  on  the  irony  of  Gloucester's  words  to  Edgar. 
What  is  its  peculiar  character? 

52.  What  request  does  Gloucester  make  of  Edgar? 

53.  Why  has  Albany  taken  no  part  in  the  action  up  to  this 
point?  What  opinion  of  his  character  do  you  get  from  the  ac- 
counts of  Oswald  and  of  Goneril? 

54.  What  is  the  effect  on  the  spectator  of  the  amorous  passage 
between  Edmund  and  Goneril?  Explain  (ii.  14,  15)  Our  wishes 
on  the  way  may  prove  effects. 

55.  What  profound  general  truth  (ii.  46)  is  expressed  by  Al- 
bany? Where  is  a  similar  thought  uttered  in  reflection  upon  the 
nature  of  Regan? 

56.  What  effect  upon  the  complexion  of  events  do  we  look  to 
find  resulting  from  the  death  of  Cornwall  ?  In  what  respects  will 
Albany  supply  his  place? 

57.  What  is  foreshadowed  in  Goneril's 

May  all  the  building  in  my  fancy  pluck 
Upon  my  hateful  life? 

How  has  Goneril  been  instrumental  in  defeating  her  own  dearest 
purposes? 

58.  What  is  the  dramatic  character  of  the  third  Scene?  What 
portends  from  the  enforced  return  to  his  own  country  of  the 
King  of  France? 

59.  What  similarity  to  and  what  difference  from  our  previous 
impression  of  Cordelia  does  the  account  of  her  in  this  Scene 
furnish? 

60.  Where  else  (besides  line  35)  in  the  play  is  there  allusion  to 
the  stars  as  governing  the  courses  of  men? 

204 


KING  LEAR  Questions 

6i.  From  Kent's  report  of  Lear  do  we  judge  that  he  still  retains 
some  powers  of  reason? 

62.  What  preparation  does  Sc.  iv.  make  for  the  crowning  scene 
of  Lear's  madness? 

63.  How  does  Sc.  v.  advance  the  plot  in  regard  to  the  relations 
of  Edmund  and  Gloucester ;  of  Regan  and  Goneril ;  of  Edmund 
and  Regan  ?  What  is  one  made  to  feel  here  about  the  impending 
mutual  disaster  of  the  conspirators?  Is  there  any  passion  in  Re- 
gan's regard  for  Edmund? 

64.  What  means  does  Edgar  employ  for  curing  Gloucester  of 
his  suicidal  purposes?  What  parallelism  is  there  between  this 
and  the  way  the  Fool  tries  to  check  the  growing  madness  of 
Lear? 

65.  What  is  Shakespeare's  descriptive  method  in  the  passage 
in  Sc.  vi.  beginning  line  11?  How  does  he  secure  largeness  of 
view? 

66.  Is  there  sublimity  in  this  final  exhibition  of  Lear's  mania? 
What  thoughts  are  most  frequently  recurrent  in  his  mind? 

67.  What  profit  did  Oswald  intend  to  make  out  of  Gloucester? 
What  types  similar  to  Oswald  do  you  recall  in  other  plays  of 
Shakespeare  ? 

68.  How  is  Edgar  put  in  possession  of  facts  that  give  to  him 
the  controlling  hand  in  the  game  that  is  to  follow? 

69.  What  reward  does  Kent  desire  for  his  services?  What 
further  development  of  the  action  is  prepared  for  by  him? 

70.  How  are  the  events  connected  with  Lear  leading  up  to  the 
present  briefly  summarized?  What  are  the  remedies  proposed 
by  the  Doctor  for  the  cure  of  Lear's  derangement?  What  is  the 
emotional  effect  of  Lear's  return  to  sanity? 

71.  How  does  the  end  of  Act  IV.  prepare  for  catastrophe? 
How  are  the  events  not  intimately  concerning  Lear  summarized? 


ACT  FIFTH. 

72.  What  purposes  are  becoming  paramount  in  the  minds  of  the 
sisters  ? 

73.  What  does  Edgar's  speech  to  Albany  foreshadow? 

74.  How  does  Edmund,  at  the  close  of  Sc.  i.  complete  the  state- 
ment of  the  problem  with  which  the  Scene  opened? 

75.  What   law   of   tragedy   demands   the    defeat   of   Cordelia's 

205 


Questions  THE  TRAGEDY  OF 

army?    Why  does  no  Scene  represent  the  conflict,  as  in  so  many 
of  Shakespeare's  plays? 

76.  What  delicacy  of  art  does  Shakespeare  show  in  not  bringing 
the  three  sisters  face  to  face  again?  Is  it  comparable  to  a  similar 
delicacy  in  the  case  of  Octavia  and  Cleopatra?  Does  one  feel 
that  the  tiger  is  rising  in  Cordelia  as  shown  by  the  line, 

Shall  zve  not  see  these  daughters  and  these  sisters f 

77.  What  comment  (Sc.  iii.  8  et  seq.)  on  Shakespeare's  era  does 
Lear  furnish? 

78.  What  do  you  understand  to  be  the  instructions  contained  in 
the  note  Edmund  gives  to  the  officer? 

79.  Has  Edmund  met  any  check  in  his  career  before  his  dif- 
ference with  Albany  in  the  third  Scene?  What  is  the  last  as- 
sumption of  this  interloper?  How  has  he  all  along  played  a  part 
of  impostor  consistent  with  his  birth? 

80.  "What  caused  the  sudden  illness  of  Regan?  What  is  its 
dramatic  effect? 

81.  What  double  action  is  taking  place  in  this  Scene.  How 
does  Goneril  quit  it? 

82.  Mention  the  order  of  fatalities  as  they  occur  in  the  Scene. 
What  dramatic  effect  is  produced? 

83.  In  the  last  act  of  Edmund's  life  what  palliating  touch  does 
the  Poet  allow? 

84.  Hamlet  closes  with  a  note  of  optimism.  Can  the  same  be 
said  of  King  Lear? 

85.  What  is  the  reply  of  Kent  to  Albany's  expressed  will  that  he 
share  in  the  rule  of  the  realm? 


86.  Dramatic  art  requires  that  all  catastrophe  be  led  up  to  by 
gradual  stages,  that  events  be  foreshadowed.  Does  Shakespeare 
in  King  Lear  present  especially  notable  examples  of  this  law? 
Mention  some  instance  where  the  law  is  observed. 

87.  What  difference  do  you  see  between  the  two  sisters  in  force 
of  character?    Which  took  the  initiative  part? 

88.  Is  there  any  hint  in  this  play  of  Christian  religion  or 
ethics? 

89.  As  an  example  of  Shakespeare's  resourcefulness,  collect  to- 
gether the  various  expressions  used  in  reference  to  the  blinded 
eyes  of  Gloucester. 

206 


k 


KING  LEAR  Questions 

90.  Even  with  the  modern  development  of  stage  effects,  do 
you  think  King  Lear  a  play  fit  for  stage  representation  ? 

91.  Would  you  prefer  that  Shakespeare  had  followed  the  lines 
of  the  old  story,  and  made  Cordelia  set  her  father  again  upon  the 
throne,  and  rule  after  him  a  while?  Or  does  the  high  pitch  of 
passion  demand  death  as  the  only  adequate  end? 

92.  What  was  there  in  the  character  of  Regan  whereby  she 
deceived  Lear  longer  than  Goneril  had  done? 

93.  When  does  Edgar  learn  for  the  first  time  that  his  father 
has  been  deceived? 

94.  What  point  in  the  development  of  the  underplot  does  this 
mark  ? 

95.  What  was  the  function  of  the  Fool  in  developing  the  idea 
of  the  plot? 

96.  Is  any  play  of  Shakespeare's  so  complex  in  plot?  Is  there 
anything  in  this  complexity  that  seems  to  interfere  with  simplicity 
of  action? 

97.  Your  estimate  of  the  character  of  Edmund,  as  compared 
with  lago,  for  instance? 

98.  In  this  play  are  not  the  characters  that  might  be  called 
minor  more  forceful  in  individuality  than  in  other  plays — say 
Macbeth,  Hamlet? 

99.  Coleridge  has  called  Kent  the  nearest  approach  to  pure 
goodness  of  any  character  conceived  by  Shakespeare.  Comment 
upon  this. 

100.  Mention  some  specimens  of  literature  written  since  King 
Lear  and  evidently  inspired  by  it. 


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